Black Sun
by IsYourH3artTaken
Summary: The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them. Derek/OC.
1. I See a Dark Stranger

**I'm only putting this once...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf, just my OC and her family.  
**

* * *

_Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody. _

**- Mark Twain**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**I See a Dark Stranger**

* * *

I couldn't believe I was here.

I mean, I _really_ couldn't believe it.

This was not my scene whatsoever, but yet here I was, standing awkwardly near the big surround sound stereo system, watching as everyone started grinding to a popular dance tune. I fiddled with a lock of my hair, trying to look uninterested as everyone had a dancing partner except me. A rambunctious couple made out in a frenzy at my left side and nearly knocked me over into the spiked punch bowl. Oh god, why did I come here? I thought. Oh yes, that's right. I wanted to be with my friends. Who ditched me the moment we walked through the door. I stood on my tippy toes to see over the heads of my dancing peers, hoping to catch a glimpse of Julie or Lauren, but I saw nothing. Not one familiar face.

Sighing, I tore myself away and squirmed past the dance floor to the pool in the back yard. A few party goers lounged on the beach chairs and some were already taking a dip in the pool. The moon reflected clearly off the bluish black water and I looked up at the stars. I closed my eyes as a breeze licked at my cheeks.

A part of me wished that I had stayed home, but _nooo_. Julie just had to be so persuasive and a night out with my friends just sounded too good. Or at least, I had thought it would be. Served me right I guess for getting my hopes up. I had spent the whole time trying to look cool, as if I had a place here. There's people you see who have natural charm, charisma, and a single smile tells a thousand without them ever having to speak. You don't know what it is about them but they draw you in. Something that's extra special.

Then…well, there's me. I never was the one to try to "fit in" but I didn't want to be the black sheep either.

Statement of my life, now that I think about it.

A drunk, dark haired girl stumbled past me, mumbling something about Corona and Viagra. She bumped against my shoulder, nearly pushing me into the pool. I caught myself in time and mentally put the drunken girl on my list of people to avoid during the school year. I zipped up my jacket, feeling colder, and ambled along the rim of the pool. An empty beer bottle floated in the middle. Real classy.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed a tall, dark figure standing near the gate in the far right side of the yard. A nasty, vicious dog was barred on the other side, snarling and pushing it's nose against the gate to get a bite out of whoever was standing in front of him. A deep shadow clouded over the strange figure so I could barely see anything beside the outline. It looked like a male. A big male. It could've been a girl but I doubted it. I shamefully stared, unsure if the obscure shape was looking back. I took a step forward, curiosity flaring up, then a hand touched my shoulder.

It was Julie. Behind her was a burly looking jock, wearing an orange polo shirt with the collar flipped up.

"Hey, Al. I'm gonna take off with Brian, okay?" She said. I almost cringed when she called me 'Al'. It was short for my name Alessandra, but something about the nickname seemed…weird; boyish somehow.

I paused, glancing at her date before answering. "Where's Lauren?" I asked. I hadn't seen her since we came in.

"I think I saw her go into one of the bedrooms with Kyle," Julie said, giggling as her new arm candy kissed her neck. Kyle was one of Lauren's on and off again boyfriends. She had so many. One for every day of the week.

"You were my ride home," I murmured before she could ignore me again to make out with the jock. Truthfully, her bailing on me wasn't much of a shock.

She had always been somewhat of a flake but I had told my parents that she would be the one driving me home so this was an unpleasant short notice. We had been friends since the beginning of Junior High. I still trusted her and I didn't know why.

"Oh, I'm sure someone here will take you home," she said plainly. That felt like another punch in the gut. "You can always call your parents," she added shortly after.

I guess she was right. I had my cell phone on me anyways. Maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing. I nodded and forced myself to smile. "Yeah, it's fine. Go ahead and have fun," I said.

She giggled and grabbed her new man's hand, tugging him along. "I definitely will," she whispered suggestively, wagging an eyebrow. She waded through the crowd and gave me a small wave. "See you tomorrow!" She called over her shoulder.

I sighed once they were out of sight, feeling my phone tucked in my back pocket. I still had about an hour and a half before my curfew was up so I decided to raid the kitchen until then. I squeezed through the dancing couples and crept into the kitchen, ignoring a pair as they displayed a hefty amount of PDA in front of the chip bowl.

**[O]**

I spent a longer time in the kitchen that I had planned. I managed to sneak the chips away from the snogging lovers and I found an unopened carton of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer. _Jackpot_. I indulged myself, failing to check the clock for my approaching curfew. I was content with my own little mini buffet. I wandered out into the living room when I heard people whispering and murmuring to each other. A sickly, sweaty, pained looking boy stumbled through the crowd, pushing past the other teens and down to the front door. His friend called after him. Weird, I thought to myself. Oh well, maybe he just had alcohol poisoning and needed to go home. I shrugged my shoulders and went back into the kitchen.

When I hit the bottom of the ice cream tub, I figured it was time for me to turn in. I threw my scraps in the trash and went back into the living room. It was pretty barren, except for a few couples that stayed behind to cuddle and drink.

Looking at the clock, I saw that it was 11:30 PM. Damn it. Mom is going to be pissed, I thought. I walked outside, hearing other teens laughing and clicking their beer bottles together as they surrounded their cars. I sat down carefully on the curb and pulled out my cell. I prayed that my parents were still awake. They usually were in bed by ten so my expectations weren't exactly positive.

I dialed home and held my breath as the phone rang. After five rings, the answering machine came on. "Hey mom, it's…uh, it's me. My ride kind of left me so can you come-"

_Beep_. "We're sorry. Your call could not be connected. Please try again," the automated message sang cheerfully. Oh yeah, way to sound happy at a time like this.

I mumbled a curse and redialed, hearing the same message play over and over again. By the third try, I gave up and shoved my phone back into my pocket. I hoped they heard my fragmented message. Or at least some of it so they knew I was stuck here.

So I waited.

And waited, and waited some more.

Until I got tired of it.

Soon, there wasn't anyone in the street but me sitting alone on the curb. It started to get darker and the lame amount of light the street lamps gave off didn't comfort me at all. I knew staying here alone wasn't safe but neither was walking home at this hour. Reluctantly, I stood up and looked both ways down the street, pondering on which way to go. I came in along the eastern bend so I decided to go with that. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest as I made my pilgrimage home. I should have worn a thicker jacket.

I started to feel better once I came within the nearest gas station. The streets light were a little brighter and I sighed with relief. I wouldn't have to feel so paranoid now. I wasn't always like this, until I started watching the _Investigation Discovery _channel when I was fifteen. Bad, bad decision.

A bar ahead of me was still open, a light shone dimly through the window. Two men, in their early thirties I guessed, were hanging around the alley next to the bar. They were obviously buzzed, as they laughed rather loudly and their eyes were thick with glaze. I tried not to think to much about them as I passed by, hearing them call names at me and laugh crazily. Charming. Why did my folks insist on leaving out of our comfort zone of San Diego? I was a native for five years here and I still felt like a newcomer.

I took out my phone again and looked at the clock. I had only fifteen minutes before my curfew struck and I had at least thirty blocks until I reached neighborhood territory. If I had worn better shoes, I could've put all those years of running track in gym to good use. Supras are_ not_ meant to sprint the one hundred.

Damn it, now my feet were starting to get sore.

My walk started to slow into a drag and at that point, I didn't really care if I missed curfew or not. I was ready for whatever my parents threw at me as punishment. Served me right anyways for falling for Julie's silver tongue again. I had been friends with her for so long, I guess I wasn't ready to give up that kinship yet, if you can call it that. Now it just seemed like she called me up whenever my presence was a convenience to her. Lauren was mostly Julie's friend but she always welcomed me, if there wasn't a boy around to distract her that is.

I was starting to get mad again so I forced myself to think of something different. The stars were shining real brightly that night. I had to stop in my tracks to look up them. They were so beautiful and sparkly, even under city lights.

When I was little, I used to lie in my backyard with my dad when it got dark and we'd try to find shapes formed in the black sky. Sometimes we'd see a flower, a puppy or even a Greek god. Well, the last is what my dad always claimed of seeing. I think he'd just pull that so he could go on one of his tell-tales of history. He loved that stuff. Topics about ancient power always interested him. I guess that's why he became a lawyer.

I smiled to myself thinking of those days, and started to walk again, completely oblivious to the sleek, dark car parked right beside me.

"Need a ride?"

I jumped at the deep voice, whirling around to it's source. My heart nearly leaped out my throat at the fright and the beat pounded in my ears. _God, get it together._

I let out a nervous laugh and brushed a strand of hair away. "Sorry, didn't see you there," I said. The figure leaned away from the car, standing up straighter with his hands tucked in his jacket pockets. Something about him seemed eerily familiar...

I came closer to him, freezing when I saw his features in perfect clarity. Wow, was all I could think. He was really...attractive. His eyes weren't like anything I ever seen before. They stared straight into mine, like he could see right through me. The shape of face was perfectly sculpted, stubble barely visible on his lower jaw and broad in the chest.

I briefly lost train of thought. He looked at me like he already knew who I was. "I can give you a ride home," he offered again.

I blinked, trying to retain some composure. "I'm sorry," I said guardedly. "But I don't talk to strangers." I turned on my heel and walked away, ignoring the erratic beats of my heart. He gave me quite a scare.

"That's real cute," I heard mutter say behind me. I detected a little sarcasm in his voice which made me laugh. I glanced back at him and he was a couple feet away from me. I didn't even hear him slug away from his car and follow. Who was this guy?

"Thanks," I shot back. I looked at him in eye and the intensity was enough to make the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

His voice was low and deliberate. "Get in the car." I noticed his eyes scan around the street, as though he were expecting someone to show up.

Well, he certainly had a way with words. "No thank you," I said as nicely as I could. "I can walk."

"It wasn't a question," He said, stepping closer to me and I automatically inched back. He stopped right underneath a street lamp. I couldn't help but stare like a moron at his remarkably chiseled face.

"Excuse me?' I said, taken aback by his brashness.

"I'm giving you a ride home," he said slowly. "Do you really want to be here alone at night?" He touched my arm quite gently, coercing me to follow him but I pulled away slowly. I had no idea who this guy was. He could have been an escaped convict, for all I knew.

"You're demanding, aren't you?" I observed. He only shrugged and stuck his hand in his pocket again.

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you walk home in the cold." He turned and walked away, opening the driver's door to his car. The light flicked on inside and everything looked so warm..

I glanced around the desolate street then pulled out my phone. The digital clock read 11:50 PM. Great, I had only ten minutes. I looked back at the mystery man and he was about to close the door, actually leaving me alone, like he meant. It was risky, that was certain. There many horror stories about accepting rides from strangers. But I figured if this guy wasn't going to murder me before I got home, then my parents sure would.

I sighed. "Wait," I called and instantly, the guy leaned out of his car. I walked up to him, noticing for the first time that his ride was a shiny black Camaro. Pretty fancy.

I gave him my best nice girl voice. "Still got room for one more?"

He unlocked the passenger door and gestured inside. "Get in."

I sucked in a heap of air and let it out slowly, walking toward his car to inspect. It was virtually spotless. As black as the night sky. I could see the little ceiling light illuminating from the door and it looked so comfortable and nice smelling. That combination was almost too good to refuse. Still, I felt extremely wary.

"I'm not going to regret this am I?" I said quietly.

I could have sworn I saw a smile touch his eyes. "If you play by my rules then no, you won't." Rules? So there _was_ a catch. He smirked a little and that sated my worries somehow. He had honest eyes. Sharp and aware. I didn't see anything malevolent in them. It propelled me forward and I slowly sunk into the passenger seat. It was soft and cool, like I had thought.

He swung the door shut and strode over to the driver's seat. "Buckle up," he said when I just looked at him. I guessed what was one of his "rules" so I did as he said. I shifted into the soft leather seat and held my jacket tighter, shivering slightly. He noticed and turned up the dial on the heater. There was simple black blazer draped over the back of my seat and he tossed it in the back seat so it wouldn't brush against my shoulder.

"Thanks," I mumbled. He started the engine, did the usual over-the-shoulder- look then sped off.

"Where do you live?" He asked when we past a 7 Eleven, which was weird to me because he was taking all the right turns to my house, like he already knew the way.

I looked out the window at the deserted streets as I answered him. "645 Abraham Road," I said. Neither of us spoke for a while and I continued to stare at the window. It started to grow awkward so I turned to ask him something.

"Can I play some music?" I asked, reaching for the stereo system. I jumped a little when he lightly swatted my hand away from the dial.

"No touching the radio," he said, keeping one hand tight on the wheel. The other rested over the gear shift. "One of my rules."

"What's your other rule?"

"No feet on the dash."

I raised my eyebrows, a spark of mischief overcoming me and slowly lifted my feet up. He noticed and shot me a glare. "Don't even think about it," he snapped.

I chuckled and lowered my legs. "I was only joking," I said. He smirked but it was brief. I rested my hands on my knees, tapping my fingers lightly against them. I spared myself another glance at him. The light from the car really gave me a good view on him. He had a really appealing profile and was very fair skinned. The tone went well with his jet black hair. He was good looking, there was no denying that.

I guess I was staring a little _too _long as he turned to me with raised eyebrow. "You're staring," he pointed out. I felt my face go ashen and I looked out the windshield. "Sorry," I mumbled. I felt like kicking myself. I heard him chuckle lowly and I glanced back at him. He was gazing at me knowingly.

"Eyes on the road," I teased. I swore I could see him smirking when he turned away. I still stared at him, wondering exactly who he was.

"So...what are you?" I asked vaguely. His large hand noticeably tightened on the wheel, making the tendons stand out. I glanced at his hand then back up at him, wondering if I unintentionally upset him.

"A gang member?" I suggested, eying his smooth leather jacket. "A street monitor? CIA?"

The last one amused him. "Do I look like a cop?" He grumbled, casting me a quick glare.

"Touchy," I noted. "You could be an undercover one, for all I know," I tried not to smile when he gave me a rather murderous stare, though it was in jest. "I haven't drank all night, just so you know."

"Very funny," he replied, making a left turn.

"I know," I gloated, stifling another remark about his jacket. It looked like he was trying to not laugh himself, which made me want to as well. It got quiet after that and I just looked out the window, counting how many telephone polls we drove by. The trees started to fly by quickly and I realized he was driving at a pretty high mileage. It was a good thing I had my seat belt on.

I leaned my head back against the seat. The window was so shiny and sleek, I could see my reflection like I was standing in front of a bathroom mirror. He broke the silence after a moment, asking me something completely unexpected.

"Do your friends always ditch you at parties?"

My head snapped to him. "What?" How in the world did he know that? Was he there?

"You heard me," he said very lowly.

I blinked slowly and stared out the windshield. "Not all the time," I answered back after a minute or so. "Only when they feel like it." Something rumbled beside me and it made my skin craw. It came from him. Did he just..._growl_? I thought. I held onto the sides of my seat tightly, the noise putting me off.

"Then why do you keep hanging out with them?" He asked.

"Because they're my friends," I said. "They understand me." At least, I thought they did.

He didn't say anything to that, but his expression looked so...upset. Angry. Why would something like this anger him? Why did he even care? He didn't even know me, nor I him.

He pulled up to my house a few minutes later and cut the engine. My entire house was dark. Not a single light was on and both my parent's cars were in the driveway. Oh no. Dead girl walking.

I opened the passenger door, setting one foot onto the pavement. I looked back at the cryptic guy next to me and he was gazing at me without a word.

"Thanks for the ride," I said and got out, shutting the door swiftly. And for not killing me, I added mentally. I felt a pair of eyes watch me as I walked around the Camaro and to my house. I stopped before I could reach the front door and whirled on my heel. The car was still there, like he was waiting for something.

I came up the driver's side and the tinted window automatically rolled down, revealing his face.

"Were you there tonight at the party?" I asked him seriously.

His green eyes narrowed the slightest bit. "I may have been."

Ah, so he was the aloof type. "I...I feel like I know you," I said, studying his face. Something about the shape of his body seemed oddly familiar. Did I see him before and not remember?

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" I said softly, anticipating his reaction. He took a dreadfully long time in answering and his eyes flickered quickly to my neck back up to my face. A strong chill went down my spine.

"No," was his somber reply. The look in his eyes changed but it was too fleeting for me to catch what it was. The window rolled up and he drove away before I could say anything else.

I watched him go until I couldn't hear the roar of the engine down the street anymore then sauntered up to my front door. Everything was quiet as I turned in the key and stepped in. I shut the door softly behind me and listened for any movement from my folks but all I heard was silence, except the humming from the fridge. They were fast asleep in bed.

I sighed with relief and padded upstairs to my room. I shut and locked my door before slipping off my shoes and hanging up my jacket. I left my computer on when I left for the party, so the screen was still partially lit up. I typed my password in, waiting for the welcome screen to load. There was a little notification in the right hand corner.

Someone messaged me an hour ago.

**'At home. Scott ditched me at the party** **:('**

It was my friend Allison. I had just started talking to her yesterday morning before first period started. She seemed pretty cool, albeit I had just met her. She was new to Beacon Hills and the school, so I showed her around a bit and helped with her class schedule. Though every time we were going to make plans to do something together throughout the day, her bestie Lydia Martin always popped up out of absolute nowhere to drag her away. And it wasn't just in the halls. She even purposely forced Allison to run at her own pace during track in gym so we couldn't talk as we jogged. She hated me for some reason, even before Allison came to town. Which was a shame, I guess. No matter what I did to get in her good graces, she was just never on my side.

I quickly typed up a response.

**'I got stranded too. Thankfully, someone gave me a ride home'**

I wondered how Allison got home. She had told me prior to the party that Scott was her ride there and back. She arrived after I did, but we never got the chance to meet up. I lost myself in figuring out where my friends had gone.

With that, I shut off the monitor and dressed briskly for bed. I turned off the lamp then snuggled under the covers, gazing up at my ceiling. The fan turned round and round very slowly, which somehow always helped me fall asleep.

Despite a relatively bad start, the day didn't go too bad. At least, I saw a new face. A strange, elusive face but a new one nonetheless. I didn't even realize I was smiling, let alone the reason why. I could only think of one thing...

Who the hell did I just meet?

* * *

**A/N: Hey, guys! :D I can't tell you how long this chapter sat in my computer. I think ever since the pilot episode came out. That was 2-3 years ago I think? Anyways, I thought Derek was such a dreamboat so I couldn't help but pen a story. I rewrote it so many times since the original document was a disaster, haha.**

** This chapter takes place during the first episode, after Derek drove Allison home. So the next chapter will probably be centered around the second episode, and so on and so on.  
**

**So what do you think? Should I continue? Let me know! :)  
**

**Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!  
**

***Summary is a quote from Ernest Hemingway.***


	2. Under The Surface

_When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time._

**- Maya Angelou  
**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Under The Surface**

* * *

Mornings were the absolute worst. No matter how much of a good night sleep I got, I always woke up groggy. It took me at least twenty minutes to get out of my post sleep haze and even then all I wanted to do was crawl back under the sheets. I guess it didn't help that I had spent the entire weekend staying up past 2 am. I slapped the off button on my alarm clock, and tossed off the covers. I slipped on my fuzzy slippers and padded out into the hall to the bathroom. I could hear my parents shuffle around down stairs to start their own morning routine.

After washing up and dressing for the day, I checked my activity feed on my laptop. Everyone was talking about how excited they were for the upcoming lacrosse game on Saturday. I wasn't very big on sports but then again, I never really paid much mind to actually watch a full game. When I lived in San Diego, my dad once took me to a baseball game. It wasn't very exciting but he bought me ice cream afterwards, any kind I wanted. That was the bright side of Aretino family outings. You always get treated at the end of the night, especially if the particular activity had been mundane. Perhaps I'd go to that lacrosse game, just for fun.

I grabbed my book bag from the back of my chair and skipped downstairs. My mom was in the kitchen, struggling to put on her coat with her purse and car keys in one hand. I sighed and walked up to help her.

"Put your arms out," I said and she lifted them up. I adjusted the sleeves over her shoulders and fixed the collar, smoothing it down with my palms.

"There," I said when I was done.

She gave me a warm smile. "Thank you, honey."

I shrugged one shoulder and surveyed the empty dining room. My dad usually sat at the head seat with his cup of coffee and read the paper before going to work. I always saw him in the mornings, even if it was for a split second. I checked the time on the microwave and it read 6:45 am.

I rubbed the back of my head as my mom tore open a bag of strawberry pop tarts. "Where's dad?" I asked.

"He went into work early today, and so do I," my mom answered, storing the box back into the pantry. She was an accountant at the local bank, so her hours were long and dire. Kind of like my dad's.

I always thought that his work hours were quite strange for a lawyer. Sometimes he'd return in the middle of the night or just before sun up. I brought it up to my mom once and she got very tight eyed and shamelessly dodged my observation. It made me think of the old saying, "Children should be seen and not heard." Guess that's still somewhat alive. It appeared my folks liked keeping secrets, along with half the town.

I wasn't feeling very hungry but I knew objecting when my mom held out the cold pastries would be a death wish.

"Eat something," she commanded, in her mother-knows-best tone. There was no arguing with her.

I took the cheap strudel, having no time to heat them up in the toaster, and ripped open the plastic wrappings. I nibbled on the corners, following my mom as she hurried out the door. Her blue Honda civic was parked in the driveway, small and simple. Back in San Diego, we sported a flashy black Porsche, that was mostly shared by my parents. My mom didn't work much back then, only part time, so she was at home most of the days. The only time she used it was to run errands or trips to the grocers. They sold it before we moved to Beacon Hills of course, along with other expensive possessions that deemed to be pointless. Neither of them thought that displaying such a vehicle would blend in well with the local flavor. I thank god every day for that. Riding around in that thing made me feel like I was in a Bond film. It was nice to have normality.

My mom secured her brief case in the trunk while I tossed my book bag in the back and clicked in my seat belt. I managed to go through my first pop tart and started to work on my second.

My mom touched up her lipstick in the rear view mirror as I munched through the rest of my breakfast. "Could you eat like a human being?" She snipped when crumbs fell all over my lap and leather seat.

I dabbed the corners of my mouth with my sleeve. "Could you not dress like Shaft?" I shot back, which made her look down at her long black coat. I held back a chuckle when she rolled her eyes. She started the car and cruised out of the drive way, making snide remarks about my messy eating habits all the way there.

We pulled up to the school right on time, stopping at the curb. My mom left the engine running as I got my stuff from the back seats. "Have a nice day, dear," she called to me, handing me my history book which had fallen out of the bag.

I tucked it in with my other books. "Bye, mom," I called and shut the passenger door but leaned against the open window before she could drive off.

"Hey, will you still be able to pick me up today after school?" I asked. My mom pursed her lips which wasn't usually a good sign of her disorganized thoughts.

"I don't know, honey," she pondered, looking ahead at the windshield. "It depends if I can get off work early enough. Your father works late so he won't be back until later tonight. If you don't hear from me by three thirty then that means I can come."

My expression brightened. "Okay," I said, a little hopeful. "I guess I can get a ride from one of my friends if you can't." That little voice in my head couldn't help but scoff 'yeah right' at my proclamation. I had to walk home three times in a row during the past week. Gosh, I _really _needed to get my license.

My mom nodded, giving me a tight lipped smile. "I'll see you later, sweetie." I waved as she rolled up the window and cruised away, going a little faster than she normally drove. I turned to the school steps and crossed my arms over my chest.

This was just like any other day.

**[O]**

Punching in my locker combination, I stuffed all my books into the awful small space and gathered all the things I needed for my first class. A flurry of students fluttered around me, shoving stuff into the backpacks before slamming their lockers closed. A disheveled looking boy a couple lockers down from me played an air guitar to his mp3 player. I shook my head and bit my lower lip stop myself from bursting into semi hysterical laughter.

"I've been looking for you," a light, chirpy voice called from behind me. I turned around, meeting the smiling face of Allison Argent. I wondered how she managed to escape Lydia's ever watchful eye.

"Oh hey," I said, my mood perking up. I closed my locker and hung my bag over my shoulder as Allison leaned against the locker next to me.

"What's up?" She asked, her dark curls bouncing over her shoulders.

"Same thing, different day," I said, which made her chuckle.

"I know exactly how that feels," she said, flashing that smile that showed her dimples. She walked with me down the hall to my first class of the day.

"How was the party last night?" I asked her as we strolled.

She gave a sassy shrug of the shoulders. "It was going great until Scott left." She played with her fingers, knitting her thin eyebrows together.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said, sounding completely puzzled. "We were having a good time then he just…" she trailed off, stopping her strides. I paused too, and she stared at the tiles, looking hurt and angry at the same time.

"I thought he liked me," she murmured.

"I'm sure he does," I said. I wasn't very good at the whole comfort talk thing but I was giving it all I got.

"But why would he just desert me like that?" Allison asked. I could tell by her tone that she was really getting upset.

_Okay. Think, think._

"Well," I said slowly, picking my words carefully. "Maybe you looked too hot and he just couldn't handle it." I waited for her response, as she bit her lower lip, the crease between her eyebrows slowly retracting.

She giggled quietly and her shoulders relaxed a little bit.

It worked, I thought gleefully to myself. Banter really did work. "Really, you should be ashamed of yourself," I teased. "You could've put the poor guy in the hospital."

Allison laughed again and gently pushed my arm. "Stop it," she said through her laughs. We started walking again and I was relieved that the mood was lightened.

"Who drove you home?" I asked curiously.

"One of Scott's friend's," Allison said.

"Stiles?" I thought of the cute, baby faced boy that was always by Scott's side. It didn't hit me until then that I never actually met the two. I always passed them in the halls in between classes but that was the extent of our contact.

"No, he was a bigger guy. Tall, dark hair, wore a leather jacket."

It was like a brick hit me square in the face. I froze to a halt, images of the mystery guy flashing in my head. No way, it could've have been the same person. Surely it was only a coincidence.

"You okay?" Allison said, noticing my blank face. I nodded and tripped over my feet, tying to catch up to her side. Very graceful of me.

"Did…did he drive a black Camaro?" I asked warily, watching closely for her reaction. Allison made a confused face.

"I didn't really notice," she said. "Why? Do you know him?"

"No, no," I answered quickly. At least, I didn't think I did. I really hoped it was a different guy. There had to be more than one guy in Beacon Hills with the same description, right?

"How did you get home?" Allison asked after a minute of quietness.

"I caught a ride with someone too."

"Who was it?"

I hesitated to answer that. The similarities to our stories were just too close, uncanny. It gave me the skeevies and I felt the need to scratch at my arms by the creepy crawly feeling.

"I'm not sure. He was tall and sort of…creepy."

"Creepy?" Allison said, interest piqued. "How?"

The bell rang before I could say anything, signaling the first period. I sighed internally with relief. That was a can of worms I did not want to open up.

"I have to get to class but tell me everything at lunch, okay?" Allison, flashing her signature smile that made it impossible for you to feel down.

"I will," I said with a lighter tone. She touched my arm lightly then scurried down the hall. Yep, this was definitely going to be a long day…

I hurried to my own class, taking precaution so I wouldn't slip on the newly mopped floors. I walked into History about ten minutes late, much to my dismay and the teacher's. Though, Mr. Sherman was hard on just about everyone.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Aretino," he said, shooting me the evil eye.

"Sorry," I muttered, ducking my head and scampered to take my seat. I tried to let the weird looks I was getting roll off my back as I prepared my notebook. Mr. Sherman droned on with his lesson while I jotted down whatever was on the board.

Like always, after a while, my mind started to wander. My thoughts kept drifting back to the mystery Camaro guy. I couldn't get the swirl of his green eyes out of my head, no matter how hard I tried. I don't know why I always thought about him ever since I saw him. I've seen guys as good looking as him before but that wasn't the sole reason he stuck out to me. I didn't know if it was the combination of his silent nature or the biker-esque jacket.

I shook my head to myself and shifted my attention back to my notes. If I kept up this mentality, I'd fail History with flying colors.

I scribbled down my last set of notes as the teacher finished up his lesson. He just drew the due date of our homework assignment for the week on the chalk board. Wonderful. It was another essay. I wrote down the date too, then the bell rang. All the students nearly jumped from their seats, itching to get out of the classroom. I yawned, slinging my bag over my shoulder then dragged myself to Math, aka my own personal hell. Thankfully, I wasn't late to that class.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I was actually up to date with the current lessons and the teacher didn't try to humiliate me for my bad multiplication skills. Things are fine and dandy until you include the alphabet.

I admit, I felt a little proud of myself as I answered all the problems on the work sheet with an unrecognizable wave of confidence. It was my least strongest subject after all and most my past test scores more than proved that it wasn't my strong suit. I glanced up at the clock after twenty minutes as two students worked at the board on an equation. I didn't realize who they were until I raised my head.

It was Allison's boy, Scott McCall, looking rather overwhelmed as he shyly tried to solve the math problem. Beside him was no other than the school firecracker, Lydia Martin. She had daggers for me, no doubt about that, and at the moment I was glad her back was toward me. She could melt the skin off my face by the harshness of her glare. I looked back down at my papers, waiting patiently for the bell to ring.

**[O]**

When lunch time came around, I stored all my things into my locker, then followed the rising trail of students to the cafeteria. I only took a small bottle of water, a container of yogurt and an apple. I never trusted high school food. Maybe it was because I had a case of the stomach flu during my first day of Freshman year and I vowed it would never happened again.

I parked myself at a table near the window and propped a book against my purse as I chomped through my apple. The loudness of the cafeteria prohibiting me from really concentrating on what I was reading. After a moment, I looked over my shoulder at the lunch line. Allison and Lydia were sliding their trays at the end. When they turned away, Allison caught sight of me and smiled, waving one hand. I returned the gesture and she took a few steps toward my table, but Lydia grabbed her arm sharply, towing her back to a different one filled with more people.

Allison glanced back at them, then at me, conflict spewed across her features. She was having a hard time choosing whom to go to.

I didn't want her to feel divided so I smiled at her, motioning that she should go over to her other friends. She smiled back weakly, stumbling a bit by Lydia's persistent tugs. She went over to the other group, settling in perfectly. All I could do was fake a smile.

It was so… _odd_. I've lived here for five years and I still felt uneasy around my peers. I guess Beacon Hills takes a while getting used to.

"You will not believe what Rebecca Cromwell wore today!" Someone said, plopping down on the seat across from me. It was Lauren. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled into a high pony tail, supporting a baggy grey sweater.

"Huh?" I mumbled, dazed by her outburst. "Oh, uh, what did she wear?"

"Her dark wash skinny jeans were from like, three summers ago and she's not exactly a size four anymore," Lauren chatted, resting her chin on her palm.

I raised my eyebrows, expecting more to the little rant. "So?"

"Her ass almost fell out of her jeans all throughout homeroom and_ I_ had to sit behind her," she answered, leaning in close to no one else could hear. She faked a traumatized shiver.

I blinked slowly, processing that vital piece of information. Being so close to her face made me notice dark rings around her eyes that certainly wasn't eyeliner. Her breath smelled a little bitter too and something about the hazing of her eyes usually pale blue eyes sang that she was a post-bearer of a hangover.

"Did you just get here?" I asked, studying the red lines painting the whites of her eyes.

She nodded and grinned impishly. "My mom wrote up a doctor's note."

Lucky you, I thought. "Where's Julie?" I hadn't seen her all morning. We usually met up after History class but she never showed up.

Lauren cackled softly, knowing something that I didn't. "At home, sick with mono."

_Whoa_. That made my mouth drop. "The kissing disease?" I quipped, my voice raising a few octaves in surprise. Lauren nodded, grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat.

"I always told her when you sleep with a guy, you sleep with every other girl he's been with, " she said proudly. I made a disgusted face.

"I guess its just you and me for the week," I realized, now that Julie was down for the count. "Want to study after school? I have this killer English test that I have to-"

"I can't," Lauren cut me off, then scanned around the room for prying ears. "I'm meeting up with Andy later in the boy's locker room."

"Oh," I said, keeping my voice level to shroud my disappointment. "Well...have a good time then."

"You know I will," she replied, giggling almost drunkenly and hopped off the seat. "I'll call you tomorrow!" She sang as she zipped through the door to the hallways. I should have expected that, I thought to myself. Their friendship was like that little object from childhood you wanted to keep on your shelf forever and never give away, no matter how beat up and old they were.

I turned back to my book, my appetite suddenly going away. I packed the novel back into my purse and tossed the rest of my lunch into the bin. Fresh air sounded good right about then.

I padded through the empty hall and out the double doors, sucking in the cool air. I sat gingerly on the first steps and leaned against the railing, closing my eyes briefly. Which wasn't really a good decision. Whenever I closed my eyes, I thought of my green eyed chauffeur again. I just couldn't shake this guy. It was crazy. Something about him was so hypnotic. It seemed like my thoughts weren't safe at all, eyes closed or not. I wasn't always a mentally organized person but the situation wasn't really helping my case at all.

I stayed outside for a while, checking my phone every now and then for the time. I stood up before the bell could ring again and turned toward the door, about to go back in. From my peripheral vision, I thought a saw a black car parked along the curb in front of the school. It looked a lot like a Camaro.

My pulse raced. No, no...It could've have been.

_Could it be him?_

Just how many Camaros were there in Beacon Hills? Okay, just relax, I told myself. You're getting ahead of yourself. It was just a car. I was making a big deal out of nothing again. I stared at it for a little while, and I wondered if there was someone in there, staring right back.

I snapped myself from my daze and hurried back inside so I wouldn't be late when the bell rang again. My next class was a nightmare. Chemistry made me want to throw myself on the floor and pound my fists and feet against it. I _hated_ it, and not only because Mr. Harris possessed the ability to make you feel like you're being interrogated in a dark, cold room with a dim, swinging light bulb over your head like Criminal Minds. I think everyone felt a little antsy around him. Especially Stiles. Mr. Harris really had it out for him. Poor guy.

Thankfully, I walked in on time. Five minutes early to be precise. All the chairs were taken except a seat next to Jackson Whittemore, aka Lydia's beau. I always tried to steer clear from him ever since they became an item. So I was more than a bit shaken when I had to slid in next to him. If Lydia saw us in such close proximity, I don't know what she'd do to me. Maybe some kind of psychological torture.

But low and behold, we never once uttered a word to each other, except for the small eye contact we shared when my hand accidentally bumped against his when I reached for my pencil. He smirked at me then looked back down. _Thank god._

The final bell was like music to my ears. I couldn't move faster enough to collect by stuff and head outside. I still had about an hour to spend before my mom got off work, so I parked myself on one of the benches on the lacrosse field. Practice was already in session and I could spot Scott out of the burly bunch of boys. Something about him appeared off though. He looked tense and anxious, maybe even a little scared.

It was weird but I didn't pay much attention to it and just studied for my upcoming English exam. The metal seats were extremely uncomfortable and I adjusted my positions many times but the more I moved, the more I couldn't sit still. I looked up at the players after a while and noticed Scott stumbling across the field toward the school with his friend Stiles draped around him. Why did that guy keep getting sick? Must have been something that was going around, I guess.

I turned a page in my book and glanced at the students around me. Most of them were sitting in groups of two or three and it reminded of the times Julie, Lauren and I used to hang out like that. But that was eons ago. They had boyfriends now, and I had tests to concentrate on.

After the field started to clear out, I checked the time on my phone, seeing that it was close to three thirty. I slung my bag over my shoulder and skipped off the bleachers but doubled back when I realized I had left a book behind. When I reached for it, I thought I saw a tall, shadowy figure slink into the woods. It seemed like it was looking right at me. Maybe it was just my overactive imagination.

I hoisted the book under my arm and went back to the parking lot to wait for my mom. I paced back in forth in front of the steps, watching as the minutes ticked by on my phone.

One minute before it could hit three forty five, a notification popped up. It was none other than a text from my mom. I braced myself, and clicked on the little box.

**'Couldn't get off work in time. Sorry, honey! It won't happen again I promise!'**

That's what she said the first time I had to walk home. This time around though, I wore appropriate shoes for the journey. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and started my on-foot voyage. This marked the fourth time so I was sort of used to it by now, but I knew my shoulder would get tender and sore from carrying my heavy book bag through the entire trek.

I covered about half block, readjusting the strap on my bag whenever it slid off my shoulder. I saw all the students pass by in their cars and it made me so envious. I'd do anything to get my own license, hell even just a permit. I studied for it and got most of the facts memorized, but taking the written and driving test were another thing. I had a tendency to blank out during exams, like a computer crashing, loosing all its data.

I kicked a few pebbles on the sidewalk, and one flew harder than I meant. It sailed over the curb, scraping against the paint of a parked car. The screech was loud.

My throat closed up. "Oh my god," I chanted, rushing closer. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean- Is your car okay?" I felt all the blood drain from my face as the owner of the car stepped out. It was _him_. The guy who drove me home from the party. He knelt in front of the back tire, inspecting the spot where the stone hit, running a finger over the surface.

"Quite a power kick you got there," he observed.

I leaned forward to get a closer look but stayed in my place. "Did I scratch it?"

He stood up and shook his head, turning to face me. His hands automatically slipped into his jacket pockets. "Barely. Nice try though." He paused, taking in the tote bag around my arm. "Want a lift?"

I shook my head quickly, a feeling of uncertainty coming over me. "I don't think-"

"It's air conditioned," he cut in, inclining his head toward the car. I remembered what sitting in it felt like the first time and it did harbor an incredibly comforting aroma.

But in all honestly, I didn't think I would ever see this guy again. I was just grateful that he didn't turn out to be a psycho that liked to lure girls into his car so he could murder them.

"You alright? It looks like you've seen a ghost," he said when I stared at him like a dope.

Something like that, I thought to myself. I nodded and shuffled along the street. "Yeah, I'm fine. Look, um, I appreciate the offer but I can walk."

His answer was so low that I almost didn't hear it. "Again?"

I spun on my heel towards him. The statement alone should've caused some sort of negative reaction, but yet it only made me wonder. How did know all these things about me? Was he staking me out like an FBI agent?

"How did you know that?" I demanded.

He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. "I've seen you around before. You're easy to spot." He sounded so nonchalant that we might as well have been talking about the weather.

"I see," I commented quietly, fixing the strap over my shoulder. He walked over to the passenger door and held it open. The light flecked and the inside looked exactly the same as I remembered. Bright and alluring.

"Well?" He said impatiently. "Are you going to stand there all day or what?"

It was nice to know his personality was intact, too. "Charming as ever," I remarked and came closer to the seat. I thought I saw him glare at me when I turned to store my stuff in the back seat. He shut the door when I was all buckled in and ready to go.

He got in the drivers seat and started the car. I watched him discreetly, noticing that he grew out his facial hair a little. I looked out the window before he could tell I was staring, if he hadn't already. He was taking all the correct routes to my house without having to ask. Either he had a very good memory or he knew all along. I gazed at him again, wondering exactly _who_ he was. If I was going to find out, I had to be crafty about it.

We didn't talk much for a majority of the ride. He flicked on the heater again when he saw me roll down the sleeves of my shirt.

"How old are you?" I asked suddenly, and held my breath for his answer. I figured he wasn't a day over twenty.

"Older than you," was his snarky comment.

"Really?" I said, feigning shock, bringing a hand to my chest. "I thought you were a freshman with incredibly high testosterone." He fixed me with a withering stare in return.

But that didn't faze me. "So, are you in college?" I said.

He smirked at my question, the corners of his lips raising despite his obvious efforts to conceal it. "No."

I waited for a couple of beats. "Do you have a job?"

"No."

"Then what do you do?"

"I'm going to throw you out of my car if you don't stop asking questions."

Yeah, his personality was definitely the same. "I'm just trying to get to know you, that's all," I defended myself.

His eyebrows knitted together. "Why?" He asked, sounding like he genuinely wanted to know.

"Well, if you're going to do this on a regular basis, I thought I should at least know one thing about you. I already know you're not a murderer." It looked like he wanted to laugh at the last part, but kept himself from doing so. Well, it was nice to know I had the power to almost make him chuckle.

The rest of the ride was quiet until he pulled up to my house. I got my stuff from the back, and got out the car. He left the engine running as I leaned against the rolled down window.

"You know, you never told me your name," I hinted.

He waited for a while, probably weighing the choices to leave me hanging or not. His grip on the wheel noticeably tightened, gaze flickering down at the sidewalk. Why was his identity such a secret?

I waited patiently though, and after a passing minute or two, he looked me in the eye

"Derek," he said carefully. "My name is Derek."

I smiled.

_Derek_.

It was a nice name, and it suited him. "I'm Alessandra," I introduced myself. It looked like he was fighting back another smirk.

"I know," he said very cryptically and just like the night I met him, he drove off without saying anything else. I stared after his car like I was in a trance. Well, that was weird, I thought to myself. I turned and reached into my pocket to fish out my house key. The house was silent and drafty but I could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock on the fireplace mantle in the living room. I locked the door behind me and snagged a bottle of water before retreating upstairs to my room.

The rest of the school days went by fairly well. All of my grades were stable, minus math, but I managed to pull it up to a C all the way from the D- I had last week. That was sort of a start.

I also didn't receive any other special appearances from Derek, except the times when I'd look out the window in class and see a black Camaro cruise by. Or I thought I did. It could have been my eyes playing tricks on me.

Allison talked to me more in the halls and during lunch, even when Lydia tried to coerce her away. I guess she was tired of feeling torn. But since she and I were hanging out more, that meant Lydia was going to flutter around as well. I didn't know how to handle her, in truth. She could pull off this I'm-So-Nice-and-Innocent demeanor, but I knew she wouldn't hesitate to throttle me in my sleep if it meant having Allison all to herself.

And there was no word from Julie. She was at still home, I presumed, sick with Mono. But the big kicker was that Lauren ended up getting sick too with the same illness. Turned out that her new man Andy was one of Julie's recent hookups before the party on Friday night. It was like something out of a soap opera.

Over all, the week went on relatively normal. Though my mom decided to switch things up this particular morning. Instead of walking home from school, I had to walk _to_ school. She was running late for work and couldn't afford to waste anymore time. This was a little harsh but not unexpected.

I waited around for about fifteen minutes after she left, watching old cartoons on TV. I checked the clock on my phone after a while and decided it was time to get going. I made sure I had everything I needed before stepping out and locking the door.

But when I turned around, I lost all trace of words.

It was Derek, parked right outside my house, waiting for me. He leaned against the hood of car with his arms crossed over his chest. It was a nice surprise, if not a tad creepy. He always appeared at the most random times, like a popup book.

I walked toward him warily. "You lost?" I asked humorlessly.

"Thought you might need a ride to school," he announced and patted the hood of his car.

"How did you know?"

"I saw your mom's car pass by. You weren't in it," he said.

That didn't make me feel better whatsoever. "Are you...stalking me?" I asked.

He leaned away from the car, looking offended that I would even think that way about him. "Do you want a ride or not?" His eyes were narrowed and I could tell he probably wouldn't leave until I was inside that car, possibly bound and gagged.

"No, thank you," I said and gave a tentative smile. I brushed right past him and I could hear him sigh as I went.

His voice filled with ice. "Just get it," he called after me.

"I already said no," I called back just as cheery. I knew that that would get him annoyed.

"Do you want me to force you?" His tone implied that he was dead serious. I stopped in my tracks and looked back at him.

Well, that was always a good way to get someone inside your vehicle. "If you're trying to make friends, you're going about it the wrong way," I said, crossing my arms over my chest and stepping closer to him.

"I don't need friends," he said casually.

"Why not? Everybody does."

Derek's jaw tightened. "I don't trust anyone. People let you down."

"That's because you chose the wrong people," I observed. He didn't answer that but his eyes searched mine. It was like his persona did an entire 180 the last time I saw him. Last time, he was stoic and had this emotional barrier so strong that you could feel it every time he threw it up. Now, he here he was again. It was like he didn't want to go away.

"So why are you even here?" I asked, when we held eye contact.

Conflict flitted across his face, like this was a question he wasn't entirely sure of himself. "I'm trying to look out for you," he said lowly.

"But you don't even know me."

"That may be true. But there's a lot _you_ don't know either," he said.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like your friends. If you were smart, you'd forget all about them. They don't appreciate you."

Where was all this coming from? The sudden judgement of Julie and Lauren, the need to constantly watch my back. Why did he care so much? I couldn't understand it. I wasn't used to someone trying this hard.

"You know I'm right," he said when I just looked at the pavement.

"No, you're not," I replied heatedly, glaring at him. "You don't know anything about them. I know they appreciate me. They may not always show it but...I know deep down they do."

Derek's eyebrow raised. "Oh really? So you're telling me that friends who blow you off the hang out with the popular kids care about you? Friends who lie, take advantage, and only care about themselves? Is that a friend?"

He paused when I didn't say anything and stepped closer so we were a mere inches apart. "Answer me."

I looked into his eyes and they were cold, narrowed. "Look, just mind your own damn business from now on, okay? I don't you need you watching over me."

"What? You think you can protect yourself?"

"Could you do any better?" I shot back. I wanted to ask _From what?_ instead, but I had a feeling he would dodge that one.

"Maybe, if you let me," Derek said, then went over to the passenger side door. He swung it open. "But you're going to have to trust me."

I stared at the passenger seat for a long time, the soft light and smooth leather sending out intense comfort waves. He had all the right bait, there was no doubt about that. And his eyes were so sincere. The thought of him lying to me deemed almost ridiculous, but also was the thought of him wanting _my_ trust when he didn't harbor any for everybody else.

He gazed at me levelly, as I dissected my options. I already wasted about fifteen minutes bickering with him. If I walked to school like I had intended, I'd be hopelessly late for sure. He somehow always knew to show up at the right times. Weirdo.

I sighed and stepped into the seat, biting my tongue at how Derek won this little verbal battle. He came into the driver's seat, and started the car. I rested my book bag between my feet, leaning against the cushion as he drove out of my neighborhood. I rolled down the window half way so I could see everything pass us by and feel the breeze on my face. He was driving so fast again. It made feel we were racing in a Fast and the Furious movie.

"Don't you think you should slow down?"

"Why?" He asked without looking away from the road.

"Because you can get us killed," I said like it was an obvious answer, to which it was.

He only scoffed at my comment and didn't break his speed. I made sure my seat belt was clicked in properly and watched as the streets flitted by in a glimpse of green, white and grey. After a while, the little red tick on the gas started to gradually go down. It stopped at a steady forty miles.

Derek glanced at me. "Better?"

I smiled. "Better."

He turned away, smirking very little and rested his hand over the gear shift. It was quiet for a few moments, hearing nothing but the soft purr of the engine, and the wind coming in through the window. I wanted to talk about something, anything really, but I wasn't very good at starting conversations with newly met people.

Still, I thought I'd give it a try. "How long have you known Scott?" I asked him when we stopped at a red light. Thinking back to the conversation I had with Allison, I wondered how Derek knew Scott and why I haven't seen him around town more. Maybe he was just a recluse.

Derek's lips curled up the teeniest bit in a smile. "I've known him long enough."

"How long is long enough?"

"Awhile," he said stoically. Oh, so he was going to play _that_ game again.

"Has anyone told you that you're very chatty?" I said.

"Has anyone told you that you talk too much?"

He had me there. "Well played," I noted and he chuckled very softly. I looked out the window, a few strands of hair swirling around my face by the wind. I had to admit, being in his car did make me feel safe and protected, but I wondered how long it would last. Would he just disappear on me again and I'd never see him again?

"Why do you always come back?" I asked when there was between us but silence. "You're always...there." I saw his grasp tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles almost turning white. His body suddenly went tense, shoulders rigid.

"I don't know," he said, sounding even more confused than I was. "I just needed to make sure you were okay."

"Why?"

"I told you, I don't know," he said through gritted teeth. I sighed and turned away. He was doing it again. He was closing me off, and I didn't know why. It was so frustrating. The more I tried to get to know him, the stronger his little emotional wall became. He was very mercurial.

When we pulled up to the school, I gathered my things quietly and opened the door. "Don't bother coming to drive me home. I can walk," I said and got out. I was about to close the door but he stopped me.

"Wait," he called, looking sort of defeated. "Look, I can't explain it, but there's a lot you don't know about this town. There's a lot of people looking to hurt you. If you can trust me, I can prevent that from happening."

I knew I had confusion written all over my face because he raised his eyebrows when I didn't answer. People wanting to hurt me? What was he talking about? He was going in circles.

"You know, for someone who said they didn't want friends, you're sure trying hard with me," I noted.

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well. Don't let it go to your head."

"No promises," I chimed and fiddled with the strap of my book bag. "I guess I'll see you on Monday?" I asked, one foot on the pavement.

Derek smirked, but it was veiled. "Maybe."

I took that as a yes.

We held eye contact for about a minute, and it didn't hit me until then how pretty his eyes were. They were so deep, and mirrored the color of dusty emeralds. He made me nervous when stared at me for so long like that without having to say anything, so I shifted anxiously and made up some excuse to bolt.

"I'm going to be late for homeroom," I blurted out then turned and got out of the car. I could feel him watching me as I went up to the entrance but I tried to look calm and collected, as there were other students in the parking lot. I let out a breath of air once I was inside the school.

The day had started off not like I had expected, and I had a feeling the coming ones weren't going to be any less.

**[O]**

Later the next day, the big game day, I shuffled lazily down the stairs, still in my night clothes, around noon to raid the kitchen. My mom was gone early on Saturday and Sunday mornings for her book club meeting and usually came back around two thirty so it was my dad and I for now. He lounged in his leather recliner, sipping a heavy bottomed glass of Bourbon. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and trekked up the stairs back to my room. My dad surfed the TV channels, stopping on a local news report.

_"Police have arrested Derek Hale and is currently being held in custody and charged with second degree murder. The victim is currently unknown at this time. More news later tonight,"_ the reporter announced, loud and clear.

I froze in the middle of the stairs, nearly dropping the glass in my hand.

Derek? Did they mean...the Derek I knew? Oh god, this was not good. This was _so_ not good. Something in my gut told me that something was terribly wrong. I ran the rest of the way upstairs, hearing my dad click the button on the remote to change the station.

I went online the minute I stepped into my bedroom, quickly bringing up the fastest search engine I could think of. I typed in his name, drumming my nails on the table as I waited. The links that popped up all related to the Hale mansion fire that happened six years ago. The articles didn't disclose much, just that the entire family perished in the fire except for three. There were no pictures, no names, no nothing. Nothing to ease my heightening paranoia. Whoever knew about this fire wanted it to be as private as possible.

Relax, I told myself. It couldn't be him. He couldn't be a killer. How could he? He gave me rides to school and home three times now. Why didn't he kill me then?

Yes, something was very, very wrong.

I shut off the computer and flopped on my bed, shoving a pillow over my head to drown out all the noise filtering from downstairs. I couldn't think straight. My mind was a complete mess. I was so nervous and I didn't know why. He was locked up, so that meant the town was safe. But somehow I didn't really feel better knowing that.

I thought of his warm and comfortable seats of his Camaro and strangely, it made me feel... violated. I was _so_ close to him in that confined space. I could take in the scent of his shirt, hear him breath and chuckle, see the tendons flex in his large hands on the wheel. It was like I was living those murder investigation stories I watched at night before bed. And let me tell you, it's one thing to watch them, but a whole other thing to live one.

A beeped emitted from my computer screen, indicating that someone messaged me. I slugged off the bed and went to see who it was from.

I smiled. It was Allison.

**'Come with me to lacrosse game tonight? :)'**

I typed back to her.

**'Sure! Loved to.'**

I closed my laptop and stayed in my room until dinner time. When I approached the topic of me going to the game that night at the dining table, my mom and dad shot wary glances at each other. They drilled me with questions about the game, what kind of game it was, who would be there and such. I managed to shut them both up by saying that it was a high school sport competition so it was probably going to be as tame as they come. But of course, that only led to their light debate on who would have the honor of escorting me. I watched their verbal tennis match quietly, but in the end, my mom ended up the winner. That left my dad as the one who would take me to the game, something he was oh so happy to do.

I excused myself before dessert so I could sack through my closet and pick out something warm to wear. I only had around half an hour to dress, given that I had spent most of my free time listening over my parents simmering argument. After pulling on my clothes and buttoning up my jacket, I skipped downstairs. My dad stood waiting by the coat rack, cellphone glued to his left ear. He bickered with whomever he was speaking to, but smiled when he saw me and excused himself to the person on the receiver.

He tucked the phone in his pocket and looked down at me warmly. "You ready for some ball, honey?"

I felt like face palming. "Dad, this is _lacrosse._ Not baseball."

"Oh," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry. You know I'm not good at these sort of things."

I just shook my head and laughed as he shrugged on his coat. "Well, we should get going. Don't wanna miss out on the good seats. Is there anyone I can call to make reservations?" He asked me. I stared at him blankly for a moment, pondering if he were serious or not.

Judging by the look on his face, I guessed he was. "They use bleachers, dad," I answered when we went out the door. I strapped myself in the passenger seat and turned on the stereo system, hoping that would ease down some of my dad's chattiness.

**[O]**

The parking was a lot more crowded than I thought it would be. The bright lights were already shining on the field. My dad had to park on the curb, due to lack of spacing near the school, much to his displeasure. He sure stuck out like a sore thumb too. All of the other dads were casually dressed in jeans and thick jackets. No, not mine though. He had to support his best looking suit and his designer looking coat. He just had to remind everyone of his superiority. But he was a lawyer after all, so I guess he had to present himself like one at all times.

We walked into the field and I could see Allison sitting on one of the bleachers. She waved when she saw me, holding a paper bowl of popcorn. My stomach fluttered when I noticed Mr. Agent sitting right next to her. He was a pretty intense guy. I glanced up at my dad and he looked so out of his element.

"You made it! The game is about to start," Allison said, popping up from her seat to hug me.

"Is Scott still playing?" I murmured, out of ear shot from Mr. Argent. Allison nodded, grinning honey slow.

"I saved you a seat," Allison said when we walked back to the bleachers. I looked back at my dad and his eyes were narrowed, focusing right on Mr. Argent. Though he took on a welcoming tone when they stood face to face.

"Don't believe we've met," he noted.

Mr. Argent nodded and stuck out his hand. "Chris Argent," he introduced.

"Vincent Aretino." They shook hands briefly, squeezing a little tighter than necessary. It looked like they were trying to arm wrestle.

I noticed the gleam in Mr. Argent's eyes shift in a flash when my dad said his full name, but he smiled leisurely. He looked at my dad like they were friends but the ones you secretly held something against.

Allison and I exchanged confused looks and took our seats next to each other with our dad's right behind us, giving up proper privacy. Allison handed me some popcorn and I took a small handful. The players entered the field, everyone cheering excitedly for them. I noticed Scott's friend Stiles sitting on the bench down below, biting on the fingers of his glove.

The game started, and I lean forward in my seat, noticing a certain red head take a seat on Allison's right. Of course, it was no other than Lydia. I had to gnaw on the inside of my cheek to keep my manners about me. So I just concentrated on the game. This one actually looked promising to me. The ref blew the whistle and everything became a blur. Scott got knocked to the ground later at one point and Jackson managed to strike a goal. Everyone cheered for him, rising from their seats. I remained seated though, feeling bad for Scott as I watched him stand on his feet.

Lydia whispered something to Allison, clutching her arm, and they both held up a white sign that read **WE LUV U JACKSON**. I was actually surprised Allison agreed to it. I assumed she would cheer only for her boy.

Mr. Argent leaned over to Allison. "Which one is Scott again?" He asked.

Lydia made a sour face. "Number eleven. Otherwise known as the only one who hasn't caught a ball this entire game."

Allison was the opposite. She looked so worried. "I hope he's okay," she murmured.

"I hope we're okay," Lydia said.

"I hope Jackson stops being such a field whore," I snipped quite loudly, and instantly I could feel Lydia's laser vision bore into the side of my face. Allison looked like she wanted to laugh, covering her mouth with her fingers. Truth was, I really didn't have anything against Lydia's boyfriend. I just needed to say something to shut her up.

When the players took point in the center again, Lydia brandished another banner. "We need to win this," she said and stood up. "Allison?" She said, looking down at her expectantly. "A little help here?"

Allison rubbed her forehead and got up, then held up a corner of the card reluctantly, but this time it read **JACKSON IS #1**. I rolled my eyes at that. Well, if she wanted to show expressive support for a specific player then so could I.

I cupped my hands on either side of my mouth and leaned forward. "You can do it, Scott!" I called to him but I wasn't sure if he heard me, or even knew who I was. But I thought I saw him glance somewhere in my direction as though he were trying to pinpoint who the voice belonged to.

I glanced at Allison and she was looking at me with a tiny smile. Lydia, on the other hand, was glaring absolute fire. I smiled at her and turned back to the field. When the whistle blew, Scott became an animal. Figuratively speaking, of course. He zipped across the field like a Tasmanian Devil, scoring a flawless goal.

I jumped up from my seat and clapped for him.

He took point again, and amazingly, the exact same thing happened. He scored another goal, and it ripped through the goalie's catcher. Wow, he was really kicking ass.

The third time, Jackson took center field but Scott ended up with the ball again, bulldozing past every other player. A rivaling team member started charging toward him. I waited eagerly for him to make the goal, interlocking my hands together and holding them up to my lips. The audience fell silent for a minute, and I could hear the ticking of my dad's pocket watch.

Allison echoed me. "You can do it, Scott," she said under her breath.

Then...he scored it.

And the crowd went insane. Everyone ran from their seats, rushing to congratulate the winning team. Allison skipped forward to Scott, but he was already trampling half way toward the school. Was he sick _again_?

Allison ran after him, her dad watching carefully. I was the only one still on the bleachers, except for my dad, who was chatting on his cell and Mr. Stilinski, who was also on the phone. I watched the people celebrate on the field, hugging their respective players. I glanced behind my shoulder at my dad when I overheard him argue with someone on the phone.

After twenty minutes, he ended the call. "Well, that was quite a game," he commented.

"You barely watched it," I said.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, you see one you've seen them all," he ranted and fixed the lapels of his coat. "Ready to go?" He asked. I nodded, and stood up with him, diving my icy hands into my pockets. Half way to our car, we were stopped by a small group of people. Two men and an older woman to be exact. They claimed to be friends with my dad and they chatted animatedly amongst themselves. I only smiled and nodded when one of them said something nice to me.

They droned on for minutes. So long that I started inspecting the heel of my boot. After a while, my eyes began to wander and I made out a figure standing alone in the lacrosse field.

"Jackson?" I whispered. I looked back to make sure my dad or his "friends" weren't paying attention then crept away to the field. Jackson stood with his shoulders slumped, his head angled to the ground like he was shamed about something.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked carefully. I didn't really know the guy but he looked really bummed. Did he take not being the center of attention that hard?

His demeanor straightened up as soon as he heard my voice. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You know, just tired. From the game." He wiped an eyebrow with the back of his hand.

"You played great," I said sincerely. I was being honest. He was actually a terrific lacrosse player.

Jackson scoffed. "Shouldn't you be congratulating McCall? He's the one who scored the winning goal."

"He's not the only one on the team," I said.

Suddenly, Jackson kind of...lost it. "You're damn right he isn't. I worked my ass off to get here. I'm not loosing to that asshead!" I backed up a couple steps by his outburst, the hostile glint in his eye startling me. He noticed that I was unnerved, and his expression thawed a little.

"Look, I -" he started to say.

"It's fine," I cut in. "I get what you mean." I smiled in a peace offering-like way and he smirked in return. My dad called my name in the parking lot, sounding ticked off that I sneaked away like that. I glanced over at my dad then back at Jackson.

"That's my cue," I said with a frown. "See you later?"

"Guess you will," Jackson said, and graced me with a wink. I gave one last smile then hurried back to my dad before he could throw a fit. I followed him back to the car, and slid into the passenger seat.

"Who were those people you were talking to?" I asked when he revved up the engine.

"Oh, just some old college buddies," he replied then raised the volume on the radio. I took that as I sign that he wanted me to drop the subject so I did. A jazz station played soft music for about ten minutes, but then was interrupted by breaking news.

"_Police have confirmed that Derek Hale has been released from jail earlier this evening due to lack of evidence and mismatched DNA on the victims body. County Sheriff's refuse to give a statement at this time,_" a radio host declared.

My heart trapped in my throat. He's free? I thought. I didn't know if that was good or bad. He may have been an innocent man but thinking about him now made my stomach churn with uneasiness. I didn't know what it was but at that moment, I was grateful that there was a little something called instinct. It was there for you when nothing else was.

And it told me to stay far away from Derek.

* * *

**A/N: I can't thank you guys enough for all the feedback you sent for the first chapter. It means so much to me and I'm really happy you guys are enjoying it so far so thank you so much!  
**

**I know there wasn't much Derek until the very middle, but don't worry there's LOTS of him in the next one! I want to take things slow between them but I don't want to overly prolong the romance because then that would be no fun. :D **

**Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it.  
**

**Let me know what you think? :) I hope I didn't disappoint. **

**Sorry if there's any typos. **


	3. The Kept Secret

_Fear is what makes us feel our humanity._

**- Voltaire**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**The Kept Secret  
**

* * *

I hated Sundays.

And not only because the day after was Monday. Mostly because every beginning of the new week, my mom made me go out antique shopping with her, and when I say shopping, I really mean _shopping_. The kind that keeps you moving all day and you don't leave until you're the last ones in the store. The worst kind. It was fun the first four times, but when two years of it passes you by, you start to feel a little obsolete. Give me a half hour in a department store and I'd be done, but no, not my mom. She brought the term "shop till you drop" to life.

Apparently, our living room and kitchen didn't have the right "vibe" and "atmosphere." So, of course, we combed the entire city for old relics that would give our house the right touch. I was really starting to miss the old days when I was little that some dusting and furniture moving qualified as a makeover.

I thought my feet were going to fall off when it was time for us to go. I was so excited to go home and get into my pajamas, but then my mom got a phone call before we could even drive out of the parking lot. It was from the school.

It turned out that I accidentally left my house key in my cabby in the girls locker room during Friday track run. My mom was pretty ticked off at me for that but I tried to tell her that I didn't mean for it to happen and that it probably just fell out of my jean pocket when I was changing for gym. She just gave me that tight eyed, silent parent stare, the that said "You're gonna get it when we get home." Great. It wasn't like I willingly gave my key to some maniac.

She was quiet when we had to drive all the way to school to pick it up, even after I apologized twice. That was always a side she was pissed and wouldn't talk to me for at least three days. I was just relieved somebody else didn't find it and snatch it up before I could.

The principal waited at the entrance when we pulled up. I got out by myself and waited as he unlocked the door to let me in.

"You have fifteen minutes," he said to me sternly. I nodded and went in, feeling a little creeped out by how dark everything was. It was hard to guide myself without the lights on, but the double doors were left open, allowing some light from the moon to filter through. It just goes to show that no matter where you are, it will be creepy if it's pitch black inside.

At least I didn't hit my head on any walls.

The girls' locker room was unlocked and the light was left on for me. I went over to my cabby and searched around the space for the key. I never stored much there. Just a mini bottle of water, an extra gym shirt, and some hair ties. I felt my hand around the cold metal but I couldn't find anything. I started to scan the ground, getting down on my knees. I looked around the benches, under my locker, and even inside my Nikes that I left on ground, but there was nothing.

I swiped the entire length of the room and after some time, I found it under another locker, five doors down from mine.

Weird, I thought. How did it get all the way over there? I scooped it up and blew off the dust that accumulated on it. As I tucked it securely into my back pocket, I heard the door move. More specifically, I heard it _close_. Slam shut.

I whirled around, thinking it was the Principal coming to get me, but no one was there. I was alone.

Maybe it was just the wind.

I turned around to close my cabinet door, but the lights started flickering on and off. A second it would be bright then pitch black and then eventually, it shut off completely. I froze, my heart thudding deafening loud in my chest as I surveyed the empty, dark room. I couldn't see anything except for the tiny amount of light that shone through the windows. They were open.

And they hadn't been when I first walked in.

"Mr...?" I was about to call for the principle, but something rattled the other lockers behind me. I spun around, scared out of my damn mind. I heard a growl that sounded like something a rabid dog would make. It was directed right at me. The blood in my veins went cold. I couldn't move.

Ten seconds, I told myself.

Ten seconds to be terrified. Then run.

Slowly, I started backing up to toward the door. I heard the growl again and the lockers shuddered like something - someone - was following me. Messing with me. Small red dots flashed near the shower room, so quick that I almost didn't catch it.

They looked like eyes. Blood red eyes.

I'm going to die, I thought to myself suddenly. By who or what, I didn't know but it was clear to me that I was going to die there and I didn't even get to say goodbye to my mom or tell her that I loved her one last time or tell my dad that I was sorry that I accidentally broke of his shot glasses the other night. I closed my eyes when the crimson orbs appeared closer in front me. My back hit the wall.

Then...someone pulled me away. I was pushed out the door, colliding with the lockers, and my eyes flew open.

_Derek._

I saw Derek standing in front of me, blocking the entrance of the door, shielding me from whoever was on the other side. I grabbed his arm to tug him along and he quickly glanced at me.

I saw a flash of his face. He didn't look like himself, the Derek I was used to seeing.

He looked like a...beast. It wasn't anything I could describe, but all that I could remember about him was that he mirrored a wolf. The way his lips curled back over his teeth in a snarl, revealing large fang-like canines. His eyes were blue, bright blue. The familiar shading of soft green was gone.

He growled at the red eyes, claws extending at his fingertips. Slowly, he backed up, closing the door with him and slammed it shut once he was in the hall with me then leaned his body against it as a barricade. I cowered against the lockers, taking in the way his face started to morph into the one I was so fond of.

His eyes were cold, wild and intense, but they gradually started to soften once he took in my petrified expression. He straightened up, but kept himself firmly against the door.

"Are you alright?" He sounded worried. "Are you hurt?"

He extended his hand to touch my arm, but I flung myself away. My voice was shaky as I answered him. "Stay away from me," I whispered, and walked backwards toward the double doors. "Don't talk to me anymore. I don't want to see you ever again."

I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Hurt maybe, but it was fleeting. "I can explain-" He said but I didn't let him finish.

"No. I don't care. Don't come near me anymore. I mean it." I turned and bolted down the hall, heading for the door that was still perched open. I didn't dare to look behind me. The principal was beside the car, talking to my mom through the rolled down window, chatting nonchalantly. How long was I in there? Did they even notice Derek go in?

"There you are," my mom said. "Did you find it?" I reached into my pocket and held up my key.

My mom smiled. "Good. Let's get going now. It's freezing out here." We said our adieus to the principle then finally made our voyage home. I stared quietly out the window as my mom drove, watching the houses pass us by but not really seeing them at all. My hands were limp on my legs, my finger nails digging roughly into the material of my jeans. I bounced the heel of my right foot up and down repeatedly, something I always did when I nervous.

I couldn't shake the image of red eyes and sharp claws from my head. The change in Derek's face was all I could think about. It shook me to my core, making my bones feel like jelly. I was terrified, even in the presence of someone I knew I was safe with.

My mom noticed my shift in mood. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" She asked.

I blinked slowly and turned to look at her. "Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

Her hand came to my forehead without looking away from the road, checking for a fever. "You look pale," she noted with a frown. "Did anything happen while you were in there?"

"No," I replied curtly, gently bringing her hand down from my face.

"Don't you dare lie to me."

I couldn't help but roll her eyes at her tone. Her interrogation-like tone wouldn't work this time. "I'm fine, mom. Can we just go home, please? I'm tired." She didn't say anything to that but she pursed her lips, probably pondering over my answer, analyzing it for any sign of lying. I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes all the way to my house.

I didn't get any sleep the entire night.

**[O]**

From the moment my eyes opened the following morning, I knew it would be a bad day. I tossed and turned the entire night, woke up with a splitting headache, accidentally cut my hand while getting ready for school, and the car had trouble starting up, which almost made me late. Good thing my mom wasn't afraid to break the rules of the road every once and awhile. She dropped me off without saying a word to me, as she was busy tittering with someone over her Blue Tooth. I got my things and closed the door without as much as a "See you later."

Before I even reached the school entrance, a small squadron of police cars surrounded the side of the school. Yellow taping sealed off a section of the back exit and photographers were snapping multiple pictures of the inside of a crushed looking bus. When did this happen? I thought to myself. After I left the school last night?

I could have sworn I saw blood smeared all over the emergency door but the County Deputy's urged to me go inside before I could see anything clearly. They brushed it off as a wild animal doing the damage.

It was like something out of a cheap horror movie, except nobody else in school seemed the least bit concerned about it. As I was collecting my books from my locker, the Principal announced over the intercom that despite what happened the other night to the school bus, classes would proceed as planned, which earned a hearty groan from everyone in the halls.

I sighed, rubbed my throbbing temple, and rushed to Chemistry before I could be late. Of course, I had the honor of sitting next to none other than Jackson. I tried to solely concentrate on the work I was doing instead of his rather immaculate presence right beside me. And the fact that whenever I blinked I got a flash of bright blue retinas. I shivered and clutched the pencil tighter in my hand, focusing on the little black texts on my work pages.

_Ten seconds._

After a moment, Mr. Harris ordered Scott and Stiles to sit on opposite ends of the room to each other, due to their subtle conversation in the back tables. I looked up and caught Jackson giving Scott a hard stare across from him. Why was there such animosity between those two? I guessed Jackson still held a grudge over Scott over what happened on Saturday night.

Oh, well. You know what they say. Boys will be boys.

"Hey, I think they found something!" A student blurted out, looking out toward the window and hopped off her seat. The rest of the class herded forward to see what it was. I stayed behind for moment then dragged myself over to them to see what the big scene was.

Three EMT's were rolling a stretcher with a hurt older man on it. He looked cut up all over his face and neck. I peered around the girl with the hat.

Before they could lift the man into the ambulance, he jerked upright, causing everyone to shriek and jump back. I was startled myself, and accidentally bumped into someone's chest. Looking behind me, I saw that it was Jackson. I ducked my head and skittered back to my seat when Mr. Harris told everyone to return to their desks.

The whole animal attack thing seemed pretty sketchy to me. I didn't want to think like a Negative Nancy but I had a feeling there was something else the County didn't want us to know about. Either that or keepers at the local zoos really needed to lock up their cages better.

After class ended, the rest of the periods kind of breezed by. I wasn't paying much attention to what the teachers had to say, mostly zoning out and coming back only when the bell rang. I stared at the chalkboard or at the cover of my notebook.

I could use a lot words to describe a normal day at school, but never once had I thought about surreal. And let me tell you, this particular day had been all kinds of that. It was like stepping into an episode of the _Twilight Zone_. Everyone was walking by in fast forward while you were still stuck in slow motion. I didn't feel like myself at all. I couldn't look into a bathroom mirror without thinking the face looking back at me was an imposter. I guess I wasn't really all the way there. Walking the halls still put chills down my spine and I avoided the door to the girls locker room like the plaque. Hell, I even cut gym class and that was a first.

I was sort of relieved when my Dad sent me a text to say that he was on his way to pick me up. What gave him bonus points is that he never pried into my school life like my mom.

Unsurprisingly, he was talking on his cell when he pulled up. He nodded at me as a greeting when I clicked in my seat belt. I turned up the heater and leaned my head against the window, trying to drown out the noises of my dad's baritone voice arguing over the phone and the obnoxious humming of the air conditioner as it powered up.

"Rough day, honey?" I barely realized he ended the call and was talking to me.

I turned my head to look at him. "Yeah, kind of. I have a lot of homework." He handed me his coffee mug and I took a sip. It was still hot.

"Well, that comes with being young - Ah, damn it," he was about to go one one his motivational speeches again but his cell phone buzzed and he had to pick it up. Perfect timing. I wasn't in the mood to listen to it anyways.

When we parked in our garage, I went inside by myself as my dad sat in the car on his cell. I could hear his angry voice from all the way in the kitchen. My mom was still at work and I didn't expect her back until six or seven.

I dropped my book bag unceremoniously to the floor once I walked into my room. I kicked off my shoes near my desk then turned to flop tiredly on my bed. I was exhausted and desperately wanted to catch up on sleep.

But when I turned around, I stopped dead in my tracks. Standing in front of my window...was Derek.

My legs turned to concrete. I didn't move and we locked eyes. My lips parted to speak but before I could make a sound, I was pinned against the wall in a single motion, Derek's calloused hand sealed over my mouth. His eyes were cautious. I whimpered, half expecting him to growl in my face with those frighteningly blue eyes of his. I remembered the sharpened look of his claws and squirmed under his hold, memories of the previous night flooding back to me. It was all still fresh.

He seemed to sense what I was feeling. "Shh, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."

I stared at him blankly, as I was in no position to actually answer. He studied my face, noticing that I had stopped trying to escape his hold and remained still. He slowly drew back his hand and stepped away, taking a deep breath.

A minute passed before I said anything. My voice was low and hoarse. "How did you get in here? I told you I never wanted to see you again."

Derek inclined his head toward the curtains stoically. "You should really lock your window."

I glared at him, glued to my spot. "I'll keep that in mind. Now leave."

"No," was his plain reply.

"I'll scream," I threatened.

"No, you won't."

I raised my eyebrows then moved to open the door to call out for my dad, but Derek blocked the way with his hand, pressing it to keep it closed.

"I'm not leaving until you listen to me."

I skittered back, afraid of touching him. "Fine. Say what you want then go."

"Not here," Derek murmured then glanced back at my open window. "Come with me."

"What?" I said, my voice raising in surprise.

"Go outside and meet me by the side of your house."

"No," I said firmly. "Either say what you came here for or leave."

The icy look in his eyes returned. I thought they were going to turn blue again for a moment. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?"

"After what I witnessed the other night, I don't think I'm obligated to go anywhere with you," I snapped. Anger flitted across Derek's face and he turned around, striding over to my open window. He looked out the glass with tense shoulders. I stood in my place, so nervous to make any sudden moves around him. I didn't want to see his face change like that ever again.

I thought of all the things he told me, that I was in "danger" and he wanted to "protect me." Protect me? How could he protect me when he was death on legs?

"You said I could trust you," I muttered. I didn't think he heard me but he did.

"You can."

"Really? How can I when I don't know what the hell you are?" He spun around at my words. He stared at me fiercely and I thought I had angered him for a second, but he spoke, he answered very deliberately.

"If you stop acting like such a brat and let me talk, then I can explain this to you."

I raised my eyebrow. "Oh you haven't seen brat yet, buddy." It looked like he wanted to laugh at that but held it back. His muscles relaxed and he came a little closer.

And I didn't feel afraid. At least, not so much. I sighed and looked down at my shoes, wringing my hands together, thinking over his words.

One chance.

I would give him one final chance.

I met his eyes tentatively. "Is your car parked outside?"

Derek nodded.

I bent down to retrieve my shoes. "I'll meet you there. Just give a few minutes to distract my dad."

"He's not here," Derek pointed out.

"What?"

"He left ten minutes go."

I blinked slowly, wondering how he knew that. Did he have super sensitive hearing? "Oh. Well, just let me put on my shoes then," I said as Derek was already moving toward the window.

"Make it fast," he said before disappearing from sight. I glared at the spot he used to be in then proceeded with slipping on my vans. I pulled on my jacket then went down stairs. I checked the garage and it was empty.

Derek was right. My dad was gone. Huh.

I left through the front door and locked it behind me. Around the bend, sat the infamous black Camaro, it's mysterious owner waiting by hood. He opened the passenger door open for me and I settled into the seat. He started the car wordlessly and I didn't even bother to make small talk like I would've usually. All I could think about was the important thing he had to tell me.

I was feeling okay for awhile.

But my alarm button went off as soon as Derek drove out of town limits.

Tall, spindly trees reflected on the windows. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"Somewhere no one will see us," he replied. I admit, that had me a little nervous but I didn't say anymore I just watched out the windshield as we drove into out town and into the forest path. I had never been to this area before.

I rolled down the window when Derek pulled into a dirt road. A large, charred, and dark building came into a view. It looked like the remnants of a house...

The _Hale_ house.

He was Derek Hale.

"This is where you live?" I asked incredulously when we parked at the front.

"It used to be," he answered. I thought I heard a hint of sadness in his voice but it was well concealed. He got out of the car and I followed him inside, trailing behind to look at the roof that was missing a good chunk. It must have been beautiful once.

But the inside was worse. It was difficult to tell that it was even once a mansion. Everything was charcoal black, the foundation stripped away, and barely holding together. There was a staircase in front of the door that led up into the hall.

Derek wandered into the living room, or what remained of it, and stood if front of a broken window. A large hole gaped through the glass. I walked into the room and stood near a burnt chair.

"Are you the only one left?" I asked quietly.

Derek answered me without turning around. "My uncle is in the hospital, paralyzed and he can't talk," Derek paused for a moment. "Guess you can say I'm alone."

My chest ached by his words, and I wondered how long he stayed here by himself. "I'm sorry," was all I could say.

Derek was silent for a while but his shoulders dropped in a sigh. "You should sit down," he told me.

"Why?"

"Because of what I'm about to tell you." His voice was low and cautious. He turned half way to then, conflict twisting his features. I could tell he was battling with himself internally about something and I didn't know what it was.

"I'm fine with standing," I said and surprisingly he didn't fight with me on that one.

He stared into my eyes, processing my coming reactions. "Do you remember the first night I drove you home?"

I nodded. "At the party," I said. "What about it?"

"I followed you. That's how I knew," he said. Right...very creepy, I thought to myself but I let him continue. "And that night in the locker room...I was at the school. I knew something was wrong. I sensed your fear so I searched for you."

"Sensed?" I repeated. What was he talking about? None of this added up to anything I understood.

Derek nodded and stepped a little closer. "Everything you saw about me, everything that changed...are the gifts of a werewolf."

It was like time had stopped. I couldn't feel my legs nor any sensation through my fingers. My blood went cold. I couldn't speak. My tongue was as numb as my mind.

_I just couldn't believe it._

I clapped a hand over my mouth, shaking my head slowly, and gradually took small steps back.

"It was you," I blurted out suddenly, images of that beaten and blood stained bus flashing in my mind. "You killed...you killed," I couldn't even get the entire sentence out.

"That wasn't me," Derek said fiercely. "I didn't attack him."

"Why should I believe that?" I demanded.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Trust me, if I brought you here to kill you, do you really think we'd be talking right now?"

That made me think, but it wasn't positive thoughts. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be around him at that point. I needed time to think.

"I-I need to go," I muttered and whirled toward the front door. I didn't even make it past the threshold when I was spun around and forced against the wall. Derek clapped a hand over my mouth, pressing his body to mine.

I shut my eyes quickly, waiting for whatever pain he was going to inflict on me. Seconds passed before I looked up at him, but he wasn't even meeting my own eyes. He was turned away, staring out the broken window. It appeared as if he were trying to listen on something.

Something I couldn't hear with my own ears.

He retracted his hand after a moment then went over to the window silently.

"What is it? Is someone coming?" I asked but he didn't answer me. I took half a step forward but before I could go any closer, he turned back around and corned me against the wall, keeping one hand firm on my forearm.

"I need you to stay in here and be quiet. Can you do that?"

I nodded once, recoiling back from his touch. He looked into my eyes for a moment then turned, and disappeared up the stairs. I took a deep breath once he was out of the room and surveyed my decayed surroundings. I thought about leaving right then and there, but if there was somebody approaching the house, then the chances of them seeing me skipping out would be less than good.

Somewhere outside, a car door slammed shut.

I walked up to the window where Derek once stood, keeping a safe distance away so no one could see me. A lone Beacon Hills police car parked at the foot of the house, an officer stood surveying the property, walkie talkie in hand. He said something in it then hooked in back into his belt. A decent sized German Shepherd was caged in the back seat, peering out from the half rolled down window.

The cop took a step forward and the mutt went insane. He barked and snarled loudly, pressing his paws to the window. The cop looked at his hound then back at the house. I glanced at the ceiling, knowing Derek was somewhere up there.

I looked out toward the front yard and the dog was clawing through the window, screeching and yowling at whoever was provoking it. The cop stared at the house for a moment then bounded back to his car. I sighed with relief when I heard the engine start and peel away.

The house stood silent for a moment, hearing nothing but the birds chirping. I went into the foyer, hoping Derek would come back down so I could say my goodbyes but minutes passed without his presence.

After a moment of pondering, I made the risky decision to go upstairs. I tried to be as stealthy as I could, but the floorboards creaked as loud as a tiger's roar. I didn't think a feather falling to the ground could be noiseless in this building.

"Derek?" I whispered, standing at the top of the staircase. I heard a shuffle come somewhere toward the left hall, so I followed its noise. I came into a small room, mostly empty besides a stray pieces of furniture scattered here and there.

Derek stood with his back to me, facing a window with a large hole in it.

"The cops know you're here?" I asked.

"Not anymore," he replied, not moving his stance.

"Wait," I said, coming a little closer. "You did something to that dog, didn't you?"

"I only scared him."

"Poor little dog," I said.

Derek turned around then, glaring at me. "So nice to see you concerned for my safety."

We had a serious staring contest for about four seconds before I strangely had the overwhelming urge to smile. I looked away before I could and wandered around the room, staring at my shoes.

"How long are you planning to stay here?" I asked were quiet for long enough.

"As long as it takes," he answered.

I knitted my eyebrows together. "What do you-" Derek cut me off by raising a finger to his lips. He turned toward the window again. Curious, I joined at his side.

Out beyond the forest, a slender figure made it's way to the house. From what I could tell, it looked like a young male. Why was Derek suddenly getting so many visitors?

"He knows you're here, too?" I asked softly. Derek didn't grace me with an answer, and just studied the boy like a lab rat.

"Stay here," he told me after a minute and headed to the stairs.

"But-"

"Shh, just stay here. I'll be back."

I sighed and looked out the window again, seeing the unknown boy walking closer, making his features more clear. I gasped and covered my mouth when he stood just outside the front door.

It was Scott McCall.

No, it couldn't be, could it? Scott...a werewolf? And what about Allison? Did she know?

A voice seeped in into the room faintly from the broken window. Without another thought, I leaned in close, careful to not make anything squeak.

"Okay, I know I was apart of you getting arrested, and that we basically announced you being here to the hunters, also, I don't know what happened to your sister. But I think I did something last night. I had a dream about someone," Scott's voice started to drop to a lower register. "Someone else got hurt, and it turns out that part of the dream might have actually happened."

Hunters? Sister? Dreams? What the hell was going on in this town?

Derek's monotone response interrupted my thoughts. "You think you attacked the driver."

"Did you see what I did last night?" Scott sounded frantic.

"No."

"Can you at least tell me the truth? Am I gonna hurt someone?"

"Yes."

"Could I kill someone?"

"Yes."

"Am I gonna kill someone?"

"Probably." Real sensitive, Derek, I thought. I looked down the gaping hole, and Scott was almost right under men, leaning dejectedly against the post.

Derek's voice also sounded closer. "Look, I can show you how to remember. I can show you how to control the shift, even on a full moon. But it's not going to come for free."

"What do you what?" Scott asked brokenly.

"You'll find out. But for I'm going to give you what you want. Go back to the bus, go inside, see it, feel it. Let your senses, your sight, smell, touch. Let them remember for you."

"That's it? Just...just go back?"

"Do you want to know what happened?"

"I just want to know if I hurt him."

"No, you don't. You want to know if you'll hurt _her_."

I figured he spoke of Allison, and by his tone, I got the impression that didn't know about them. She was much in the dark as I was, or at least like I had used to be. Truthfully, a part of me wished I hadn't found out. It would've been a little easier to sleep at night. It also would've been easier to talk to Derek like I normally would.

A few minutes later, the front door opened and closed. I walked out into the hall and met Derek at the bottom of the stairs. "What was that all about?" I asked.

"He just needs some guidance," Derek said.

"Does Allison know he's a...you know," I hinted.

Derek's jaw set prominently. "No, and she can't."

"Why?" I said, confused. "You told me."

Derek sighed, removing a hand from his jacket pocket to rub the side of his neck. "That's different," he replied.

"How?" I demanded. He didn't answer my question and just looked down at the dusty floor, trying to conceal an emotion he didn't want me to see. His silence was all the confirmation I needed

"I wasn't supposed to know either," I realized, coming down from the final step. I didn't get a reply and the two of us stood a mere inches apart, contemplating in our own head what had just transpired. Being so close to him, seeing him like this, it shined a new light for me.

A blinding light.

"I should go. I need some time to think about...all of this."

Derek only looked up and nodded, seeming to agree with my decision. "Come on. I'll drive you home."

I shook my head and pulled my arm back when he reached out to coax me along. "No. I'm fine with walking home." The look Derek gave me was almost scolding.

"And risk you getting lost in the woods? Not going to happen. You're coming with me." He inclined his head for me to follow out the door. I sulked behind him, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, sir," I muttered.

"I heard that."

I cringed. Damn it, he must've had super sensitive hearing, too.

When Derek pulled in front of my driveway, the lights were on in the kitchen and dining room which meant both of my parents were home. I mentally cursed myself that I didn't leave a note for them explaining my absence. Oh, well. I'd just have to deal with whatever punishment they'd dish out.

"Well, today has been sufficiently weird," I said, staring my front door. I heard Derek chuckle which made me look back him.

He was looking at the road, lips twitched up into a barely visible smirk. I smiled a little myself and looked down at my lap. It was strange, but at that moment, I didn't feel anymore discomfort anymore. I finally knew who he was. I didn't have to worry that he was always keeping something from me.

But now it was replaced with nervousness and anxiety that I felt whenever I was around him. Being in his company was like having a sign over his head that read** THREAT** in neon colors. Maybe it would be better if we went our separate ways. He'd stay under the radar and no one would be put in jeopardy. I knew his secret. Who else did?

I still needed time to think. To decide just how and _if_ I wanted to keep our friendship intact.

"I better go before my parents send out a search team," I said. Derek nodded, watching me closely. The look in his eyes were more calm, instead of tense and serious.

"Goodnight, Derek," I said softly when I couldn't meet his gaze anymore. I opened the door and stepped out, trying to ignore the feel of eyes on me as I walked to my front door.

I turned in my key, hearing the Camaro warm up and drive away in the background. When I went inside, I didn't see any sign of my parents in the dining room or in the living room. The Tv was on low volume, left on a weather channel but that was the only source of noise.

I sneaked up stairs, stopping by my parent's bedroom when I heard their hushed voices on the other side. I pressed my ear lightly to the door, but I couldn't make out anything they were saying.

I sighed and tip toed over to my room, but froze when my dad's voice called out to me.

"Alessandra?"

I shut my eyes tightly as I answered. "Yeah, dad?"

"Stop eavesdropping and go to your room."

"Sure thing," I called back and retreated back to my safe haven. I didn't come out until dinner time and when I did, my folks were acting as normal as ever. I excused myself early from the table so I could burrow under my comforter and not sleep again for the second night.

**[O]**

If yesterday could be deemed as bizarre, I had no words for this particular day. But the thing was that it went along as predictable as possible. It was my own mind that made everything seem like I had fell into some other dimension. I walked slower in the halls, barely ate anything during lunch, avoided everyone I knew, and in class I sort of drifted off into this trance that the teacher's had to snap me out of it more than once.

I just wasn't myself.

All I could think about were those red eyes. Derek's claws.

The growling of a wolf.

_God._ This was bad. This was really, really bad. I couldn't make up my mind about what would be better for me. The simple, logical route would be to cut Derek off completely. I would be safe, and more importantly so would my parents. I could go one like I did before I met him, not necessarily happy but certainly not miserable either.

I wasn't obligated to help him. From what I could tell, he could take care of himself just fine.

Right?

I hoped so.

Because I was starting to care a little too much for my liking.

Maybe it would be better off if I never spoke to him again. Yes, that would be a lot better. For both of us. His secret wouldn't be let out and everyone could go one on their blissfully ignorant lives.

So that's what I was going to do. Never see Derek again. If he gets hurt, well then I wished him best of luck. And if he died, well then...

No. I didn't want to think about that.

Not right now, not ever.

But I did.

I thought about it.

I thought about it a lot. So much that that I swore my mind was going to implode from all the mental pictures I was getting. I didn't want to stop talking to Derek, not even for a day. I knew I sounded crazy but for me, friendship was the hardest thing for me to just let go of so quickly.

That's why I still clung to Julie and Lauren so tightly. And what was harder was trying to let go of a friendship you know could be good for you. That was possibly the hardest of them all.

So I made a choice. A possibly foolish one but it gave some peace and I started to feel better about everything.

But first, I needed to tell Derek, while I still could.

I texted my mom after school and told her that I was going to the mall with Allison so she wouldn't have to pick me up, then started off for the forest. I vaguely remembered the direction Derek took but I followed it with uncertainty, hoping I somehow wouldn't end up in Arizona. I deviated from going into the woods as much as I could, but I knew I would have to eventually if I wanted to pin down the Hale house. I wasn't even sure if he'd be there, but I could've always waited until he got back.

So after about two hours of walking and five instances of truck drivers stopping to ask me if I wanted a ride, I stumbled along the familiar pathway. The building look just the same as I had remembered, leaking roof and all.

"Derek?" I called gently, walking up to the front door. If he was in there, there was no doubt he could hear me. I didn't want to just barge in so I waited for a few minutes, glancing around at the trees behind me.

But there was no response. No noise.

I tried again and knocked this time, which made me feel silly. "Derek? It's me, Alessandra."

Still, nothing. I frowned and walked along the porch to the back of the house, seeing and hearing nothing.

"Derek?"

"What are you doing here?"

I whirled around, seeing Derek standing a few feet behind me with his arms crossed. His jacket was off and wore a simple white t-shirt.

My heart thudded wildly in my chest by his scare. "Make a noise before you do that," I told him and he just rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically.

"What do you need?" He demanded again, stepping closer.

"I just...uh," I couldn't get the words out with him looking at me like that.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Well?"

"I needed to tell you something," I said.

"I'm listening," he said, and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his black jeans. Oh, he was just toying with me now.

I took a deep breath and looked at my shoes. It would be easier to say it without looking at him in the eye. "Remember how I said I needed time to think? Well, I thought about it and..." A beat passed and Derek didn't say anything. Well, at least he refrained from making a smart ass comment like he always did.

"I still want to be friends," I said quietly.

Seconds passed and neither of us said a word. I glanced up at him, confusion written all over my face by his sudden speechlessness. Was he really that surprised?

"That's it?" He said, sounding strangely offended. "That's what you came here to tell me?"

Guess he wasn't surprised after all judging from the smirk playing around his lips.

"Were you expecting more?" I asked. "A marriage proposal maybe?"

"Well, a house warming gift might have been nice."

I chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint. I'll tell you what, I'll bring you a chew toy next time, okay?" That comment earned me a well deserved glare. I laughed at him and hopped off the property, a weight lifted from my shoulders. I could think clearly now instead of worrying about when I'd see him again and if he'd be alright.

"See you around," I said to him and headed back the way I came.

"Aren't you going to stay?" He called after me and I could hear his footsteps following me. I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him.

"Do you want me to stay?" I asked.

Derek shrugged. "It's your call."

He stared at me as I contemplated his subtle offer, and weighed the choices in my head. I could go home and have a crash study session, or I could hang out here for awhile with the town's secretive Lycan. Though our options of bonding seemed quite limited. What was there to do in the woods? Build a camp fire and make smores?

"I don't know," I muttered, looking at a small bundle of twigs on the ground.

"We could go for a drive," Derek suggested.

"Where?" I asked.

"Anywhere."

I thought about it for a second and it seemed perfect. "Sure," I replied, smiling slowly. "I'd like that."

The smile in Derek's eyes were impeccable. He inclined his head toward his car. "Come on."

I followed him closely. It was parked near the back of the house, well hidden from view. When I clicked in my seat belt, I could see his coat draped over the back of the driver's seat. The infamous leather jacket. He shrugged it on before we left. I could think of a hundred different things Derek would do before parting with that thing.

"So where are we going?" I asked when he pulled onto the road.

"As I said, anywhere," he paused for a second before glancing at me. "Do you have somewhere specific in mind?"

Going out seemed like a nice idea but every place I knew would probably be too crowded. Derek didn't strike me as the kind that liked a lot of people, and it was obvious that it wouldn't be wise to be seen so closely knit together by half the town. Maybe a more quiet place?

"I've never seen the sunset," I pondered. "Up close, anyways."

Derek didn't answer but I knew that was all he needed to hear.

**[O]**

If there was one thing I learned from this day, it was that Derek loved to ruffle my feathers. And I don't mean in _that_ way. He purposely went over the 60 mile speed on the road just to see me cover my eyes in case we ended up crashing into a tree. He did that for about 20 minutes, enough for us to zip through the entire town. But he stopped when he realized I was on the verge of having a panic attack. I went on about how much of a jerk he was and he said that I needed to "lighten up."

Easy for him to say.

Other than that little stunt, I actually had a nice time. Derek took me up to a high ledge to see the sunset. I was hoping the gesture didn't seem too...romantic, so I acted as cool as I could. We both leaned against the hood of his car, looking at the view. It was breathtaking.

We didn't talk much or make physical contact except for the time when we almost bumped hands. Which was awkward, to be honest. Well at least on my part.

When it got dark, Derek decided that it was time for him to take me home. I answered with a mock salute, which was responded with a glare from him that said he would tear my arms off if I kept it up. I stopped since I valued my life.

We stopped midway to my house at a gas station for a quick fill. The tank was almost empty when Derek pulled up to a barren booth. As a matter of fact, the entire outlet was deserted.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, looking around at the vacant stalls.

"Probably at home. The police set a curfew due to the attack," Derek said. He switched off the radio.

"I should've been at home an hour ago then," I realized. "Well, I guess its a good thing I'm with you," I said sarcastically, which he rolled his eyes to. He opened his door to step out and I was about to as well, but he stopped me.

"No, stay in here. It's warmer. I'll just be a minute." He got out and closed the door before I could object. I sighed and slouched back into the seat. Well, there went my chance to go inside the mini mart for a snack. I still had some leftover lunch money in my pocket.

I waited quietly, hearing Derek pop open the gas valve. I looked out the window back at him and he stood calmly with his hands in his pockets. After a few minutes, someone pulled up in front of us. I glanced behind at the rear windshield and saw another van park at the end, trapping us in. Two scruffy looking men stepped out and leaned casually on the hood. Who were these guys?

Derek removed the gas pump, shoved it back in the holder then closed the valve.

A car door slammed in front of me, gaining my attention, and I turned back to the windshield.

And froze.

A tall, lean figure slowly approached the Camaro. I gripped the sides of my seat tightly.

"Mr. Argent," I whispered to myself.

"Nice ride," Mr. Argent said admiringly, running a finger over the surface. "Black cars, though. Very difficult to keep clean." He paused to scratch and rub at a spot. "I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance."

I remained as still as a statue, praying that he couldn't see me through the tinted window.

"When you have something nice, you want to take care of it, right?" he continued then took a scrubber from the rack and started washing the windshield. I shrank back in my seat.

"Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love. That's something I learned from my family. And you don't have much of that these days," he stopped to look at Derek in the eye. "Do you?"

I peered at Derek through the window, and I heard the popping of knuckles, the result of him squeezing his fists tightly I assumed. I could tell from his clenched jaw that he was fighting the urge to rip the older man's throat out on the spot. I had never seen him look this angry. But he forced himself to relax and let his shoulders drop.

Mr. Argent's gaze flickered down to Derek's hand then back up to his face. "There you go," he said then gestured to the windshield. "You can actually look through your windshield now. See how it makes everything so much clearer?" He stared at Derek for a moment then turned and strode back to his car.

I thought my chest was going to explode with relief.

Relief that was short lived.

"You forgot to check the oil," Derek said calmly. I felt like slapping a hand to my forehead.

Mr. Argent turned around slowly with a wry smile. He looked at one of his flunkies. "Check the man's oil."

One of the men slugged away from their car and went up toward the driver's side window. He quickly struck it with the end of his bat, and pieces of glass flew everywhere, landing mostly on me. I squealed and whipped my face the other way to protect myself from any cuts.

"Looks good to me," the guy said to Mr. Argent. He looked back into the car, noticing me. "Sorry, darlin'," he said with a grin. I thought I heard Derek growl in the back.

The guy's acknowledgement made Mr. Argent see me for the first time. He seemed surprised for a moment but then he nodded knowingly at me. It felt like he was giving some sort of warning.

"Drive safely," he said to Derek, sparing me a glance before going back to his car. I watched him leave quietly.

I sat frozen in my seat, small shards of glass flecking my entire torso and seat. Derek came into the drivers seat a few minutes later, closing the door. He sat still for a moment, staring straight ahead as I brushed off glass bits on my shirt. He lowered his head, like he was ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he said very lowly.

"Why? This wasn't your fault," I said.

"I should've have brought you here. It was too soon for us to be seen together like this."

I looked down at my lap to hide my disappointment. I stayed quiet when he started the car and drove out of the gas station. The entire ride was like that until we pulled up next to my house. I was too shaken up to say anything else or move from my awkward, stiff position.

Derek's hand was tight on the wheel, clutching so hard that I swore it would break in half. His eyes were cold and narrow, looking ahead at the street. I drummed my nails on my knees, waiting for him to say something but he stayed tight lipped.

So I took a shot. "I'll see you later?" I asked.

He answered without looking at me. He must've been real mad. "Yeah."

His statement caught me off guard. I really thought this would be the last time I would see him, given his little speech about us being seen together earlier and keeping our distances from each other. I was prepared for a rejection. What changed his mind?

"Really?" I couldn't help but ask. He only nodded stiffly, hand tightening on the wheel. It looked like he was fighting with himself internally.

I looked out the window, glancing up at my parents window. The light inside was turned off. They were already in bed. I felt a tiny smile tug on the corner of my mouth, the thought of somehow seeing Derek again lifting up my spirits. God, I really was loosing it.

I answered him to break the ice. "Okay, well...Goodnight." I got out and closed the door. He was still glaring at the road the entire time. I didn't hear his car start up again and drive away until I was safely in my house.

* * *

**A/N: There's Chapter Three! Pack Mentality is one of my favorite episodes so I had a lot of fun writing this one and I can't wait to get started on Magic Bullet. There's some Scott/Stiles/Alessandra scenes that I think you'll like. It's already written, I just have to type it out. :) ****I hope the whole werewolf reveal wasn't too soon. I tried to make as realistic as possible.**

******Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. You guys are the best! **

**Let me know what you think and I'll post another chapter for you! :D Sorry if there's any typos.  
**

**Oh, and also, what does everyone think of Derek/Ms. Blake? Do you like them together?  
**


	4. Faithful Companions

_The best time to make friends is before you need them.  
_

**- Ethel Barrymore  
**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Faithful Companions  
**

* * *

"Hey, did you see that creepy looking guy in the halls?"

"Who?"

"Sean told me there was this older guy walking around the school. He asked for Scott McCall."

I was going over my English notes when I heard two students gossiping to each other two rows ahead of me. I snapped my head up, clutching the mechanical pencil tighter in my hands. Could they be talking about…?

"Maybe it was just one of the students."

"Nah, Sean said he was way too old to be in high school. He thinks it was the guy from the Ha-"

"Ladies," Mr. Sherman called sternly. His beady eyes flickered between the two shamed chatters. "Another word and it's off to the principal's office. Understand?"

The two girls nodded and lowered their heads. I would have flown out of the country if Mr. Sherman gave me a look like that.

I turned a page in my notebook and skimmed over what I had written down. I couldn't really read any of it because all I could think about was the image of brooding Derek lumbering throughout the halls. The last time he was here in school, it didn't end very well. I still had trouble sleeping since that night. Why would he be here?

I slouched in my seat, shutting my eyes when the teacher's voice made my temple pound with anxiety. I periodically checked the clock, itching to get out of my chair so I could skin to halls for some sort of evidence. But the class ended, I was hounded with questions from a few Sophomores about the English exam I took last Monday, so that cut into my "sleuthing" time. So much that I didn't even realize it took up my whole free period.

After they left, I had to return to my other classes.

When the bell rang at lunch time, I sifted through my locker to find my Mp3 I tossed in just before first period started. I really needed to clean the thing out. It was overflowing with stuff I didn't even need. But I ended up pulling it out from under an old mini carton of grape juice that I probably hadn't taken out since Freshman year. I dusted it off and turned it on.

Before I could secure in the ear buds, someone tapped my right shoulder. I thought it was Allison but it was actually someone I hadn't met before.

It was a tall, brown haired girl. She wore Buddy Holly looking glasses. "Hey, someone was asking for you earlier," she said. Getting a clear look at her face, I realized it was one of the students that helped out sometimes in the Office.

I sighed and turned around fully to her. It must've been one of my parents coming to return my Spanish book that I accidentally left on the dining room table that morning. "Tell my mom or dad that I-"

The girl cut me off, shaking her head. "It wasn't your parents. It was some guy. He looked really sick."

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I leaned against the lockers for support. "Are…are you sure?" I asked.

The girl nodded. "Yeah, he asked around but I guess you were busy in class." She gave a sassy shrug of the shoulders.

"What did he want?"

"I don't know. He didn't say."

I blinked slowly. "Oh, uh, Okay. Thanks for letting me know," I said, astonished. She nodded then walked the other way. I stayed frozen in my spot for a moment then turned and headed to the cafeteria in a daze. I didn't know what to think. Could it have been Derek?

A tiny part of me wished it was and prayed it wasn't.

I shook my head quickly, trying to clear my thoughts then headed to History. That day I would be sharing the class with Allison, which was rare since the only time that we could talk was before the bell rang, lunch time and on weekends.

She sat toward the back row when I came in and luckily, the seat behind her was free, so I claimed it. She turned halfway and beamed at me as the other students filed in.

"Guess what I'm doing after school," she said with a jubilant smile.

"You know I'm bad at guessing," I said jokingly. "What is it?"

"I'm studying with Scott after school."

"Do you mean studying or..._studying_?" I remarked.

"Oh shut up," Allison said playfully. I giggled.

"How did you convince your parents?" I asked.

"I didn't," she said with a smirk. "They won't be home for hours. I can sneak him out before they get back."

"After you finished ravaging him?" I guessed. She blushed apple red and laughed softly.

"I'm kinda nervous," she admitted.

"Why? Are you gonna...?"

"No, no!" She said quickly. "I mean, I don't know. It's just that-"

"Settle down everyone," the Teacher interrupted, scanning the whole class. He gave extra glances to Allison and I. We exchanged sheepish looks then turned to the chalkboard as the Teacher started his lesson. His writing was quick and sharp on the board, but the clanking noise provided a perfect distraction for me to pass a small note to Allison.

I wrote my message down and carefully tore off the paper, pausing when it ripped to check if the Teacher heard. He didn't so I folded it up swiftly and tossed it over Allison's shoulder. She took it slowly, eyes glancing up at the Teacher to make sure his back was still turned then opened it.

_**So what were you saying?**_ was what I wrote. She scribbled something back then handed it over carefully.

I unfolded it quietly.

_**I don't know what to do when he comes over. I feel like I should do something special or wear something sexy, but I don't want to scare him away.**_

I wrote down my reply and gave it to her, keeping a watchful eye on the Teach. He was talking, but his back was still turned as he copied his lecture onto the chalkboard.

Allison smoothed out my paper.

_**He'd be an idiot if he does run away. Just take it slow and don't rush anything. If he's really into you, then you'll know naturally.**_

I saw her smile a little while reading what I wrote. She glanced around her before writing something back to me. She sneaked the paper under her desk so I could easily reel it in.

**_Thanks. Let's hang out more, okay?_**

I smiled then flipped the paper on its opposite side to write more. The last message was short and sweet.**_  
_**

**_I was thinking the same thing._**

We exchanged brief grins but quickly ducked our heads when the Teacher swept his line of sight in our area. At that moment, I missed the old History teacher, Ms. Mason from Freshman Year. She always gave me a C- but at least she was nice.

**[O]**

The parking lot was more crowded than usual. When the final bell rang, there was a huge line running out into the parking lot so I had to walk some ways to see my dad was either there yet. He hated traffic so I knew he wouldn't be in an all too happy mood when he came. I waited for about ten minutes until I heard the familiar honk of his horn.

I went over to the passenger side door, but stopped when a choir of horns rang. I looked over at the line, and saw that it was growing. Something was holding it up.

I tossed my bag in the front seat and told my dad to wait for a minute. I pretended like I didn't hear him when he called after me as I followed the cars to whatever scene was happening. I came up beside a champagne colored SUV, seeing a light blue Jeep parked in front of the awaiting squadron of cars. Wait a minute, I thought to myself. I've seen that Jeep before.

I went closer and hit against a white Honda as two boys were leaning over someone, and from the looks of it, that someone was laying on the pavement. I wondered who the person was and before I go move any closer, my dad called my name impatiently. I sighed and turned halfway around but then, the boys stood up and helped someone to their feet. I saw clearly who they were.

It was Scott and Stiles.

I was shocked, and not for them, but for the person braced up in between them.

It was Derek.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, watching him as he was eased into Stiles' jeep. He started speaking with Scott through the window. I couldn't hear a word they were saying since car horns were blowing up all around me. My dad called after me again so I ran back to him before he could get too upset. I hopped in the passenger seat and we drove off almost instantly.

"What on Earth was that about?" He asked when we pulled out of the parking lot.

I shrugged carelessly. "Someone collapsed, I guess."

"Damn drug addicts," he cursed under his breath. I said nothing and waited anxiously for us to get home.

As soon as we pulled into our driveway, I threw open the car door and hurried inside. My dad had told me on the way there that he had other plans for later so I wasn't expecting him to be home for very long. I probably wouldn't have noticed if he had left anyways.

I dropped my book bag at the foot of my bed and started my computer. The activity feed immediately blew up. I scrolled through the pages, seeing endless amounts of statuses that referred to the scenario in the school parking lot with Derek. I honestly didn't know why I even bothered checking. I knew no one would have any valid information. I guess I just wanted some answers, but Beacon Hills was as clueless as can be. Maybe it was better that way.

I shut the computer off after a few minutes and rummaged through my bag. My mind was racing a million miles a minute and I could barely think about anything else.

I needed a distraction.

I pulled out a book that my English class were supposed to read and take a quiz on by next Monday.

_The Sound and the Fury_ by** William Faulkner**.

Seemed interesting enough. I curled up on the center of my bed, a pillow pushed up against the headboard to support my back and began the first chapter. It managed to hold my attention for about half an hour until my mind started to wander. I couldn't stray from the thought of Derek lying in that parking lot, looking near death, no matter how hard I tried. He looked so sick when Scott and Stiles pulled him up. It worried me. I know Derek was capable of handling himself, but I hoped he was alright.

I snapped the book shut and rolled over to my side, watching the liquid in my lava lamp swim around. I must've zoned out longer than I thought because thunderous knocks flew at the door downstairs. I bolted up, the book falling off the bed. I waited for a beat and the rumbles continued. I wondered why my dad didn't answer it, but then I remembered that he probably already left some time ago.

I hopped off the bed, slipped on my shoes, and half sprinted down the stairs, almost tripping over myself. The knocking had stopped once I reached the door. I wished we had that little eye whole that kept us at bay from the real world, but sadly were without one. I had to look the old fashioned way.

I opened the door slowly until it showed two closely huddled figures. I covered my mouth. It was Stiles.

With Derek.

"What the-" I started to say, my gaze flickering between the duo. Stiles looked relieved and terrified at the same time while Derek looked like well, death to put it lightly. He was terribly pale, sweaty at the face, and blood soaked one of his sleeves.

"What happened to him?" I asked, stepping aside to they could come through. They stumbled to the living room and Derek collapsed on the sofa.

"He was shot," Stiles said, sounding rather stressed.

"Why didn't you take him to the hospital?" I asked.

"It wasn't like any other bullet. It won't let him heal."

I stared at Stiles like he had just spoke pig latin. My hands felt cold, like all the blood flow had been cut off.

I turned to Derek's tortured looking form, feeling a wave of panic go through me. "Stiles, you have to get him out of my house!" I exclaimed. I really, _really_ didn't want to kick him out but if one of my parents came home while they both were here...the picture would not be pretty.

"Where am I supposed to take him?" Stiles said.

"I don't know, just anywhere but here. If my parents come home and-"

"Look, he has nowhere else to go. He told me to bring him here," Stiles argued. I glanced at Derek on the couch but he was facing away from us, breathing slowly and heavily. I paced back and forth, chewing on my finger nails. I racked my brain for places he could go for refuge but I couldn't think of anything. At least, anything that was private.

There had to be a something...

"Wait a minute," I blurted out suddenly and Stiles snapped his head to me. Even Derek looked up weakly at me with half lidded eyes, sweat dripping down his temple.

"Doesn't Scott work at an Animal Clinic? Maybe he can get you in."

Stiles took out his phone, fingers ghosting over the keys. "I doubt that's gonna work, but here it goes," he muttered. I went over to Derek and sat carefully next to him, pressing my palm to his cheek. His eyes fell closed but he kept breathing.

"Hurry, Stiles," I said. "He's burning up. Bad." I moved to stand up but Derek's fingers locked around my wrist, pulling me back down.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "Stay."

I froze for a moment, listening to his ragged breathing, then sunk back into the sofa. His hand loosened its grip but still kept contact. I could hear Stiles arguing with Scott over the phone and after awhile he hand it to Derek.

"Talk to him," he ordered, using his other hand to massage the bridge of his nose.

Derek took the phone. "Did you find it?" He said into the receiver. I stood up while he spoke to Scott and walked to Stiles, who looked like a complete mess.

"Did he say yes?" I asked, referring to my suggestion.

Stiles nodded. "We got to get him there fast. There's a key behind the dumpster."

I nodded and looked back at Derek, who finishing up the call. "So if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet." He switched off the cell and tossed it back to Stiles. I helped him off the couch, bringing one his arms around my neck while the other was around Stiles. It was heavy on me, like a tree trunk.

We stumbled with him all the way to Stiles' jeep and eased him into the passenger seat. I closed the door and leaned in through the rolled down window.

"Be careful," I murmured to Derek and without thinking, I leaned forward and planted a fleeting kiss to his cheek. He blinked quickly, and stared at my face incredulously without a word as I pulled away.

"Hold on, you're coming with us," Stiles proclaimed.

"What?" I said, appalled. "No, I just can't leave. I have to be here when my parents get home." At that moment, it would be any minute before they returned.

"I need your help with this. You can't bail on me now," Stiles said, sounding very desperate.

"Stiles," Derek snarled through his teeth. Judging from his tone, I could tell he wasn't happy at all by the suggestion that I should go along. I glanced back at my house then at the two pairs of eyes trained on me. Derek looked so pained and on the border of passing out. Possibly never waking up again. I wanted to help somehow but I felt useless. What I could do?

"Let me lock up first," I said then rushed inside to grab my keys. I made sure all the windows were secure and doors locked tight before sprinting back to the jeep. I hopped in the back seat and Stiles shot off like he was in the Grand Prix.

Derek rolled up his left sleeve, exposing the bloody black liquid seeping from his wound. "You should've...stayed...home," Derek breathed, his chest heaving.

"It's okay," I reassured him. "You needed my help." I rested my hand on his shoulder and I could feel his skin under the material of his shirt heat up, but it made his breathing a little more stable.

Even Stiles noticed. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up," he remarked. Truth was, I wasn't doing much. Just laying my hand on his broad shoulder, a simple gesture. I kept it on him throughout the entire ride and it seemed to make a small difference.

We pulled up to the Animal Clinic on time. Derek coiled his arm around my waist limply, leaning against my side as Stiles opened up the garage. Derek fell onto a sack of dog food when Stiles read something on his cell, scrolling his thumb on the screen. I paced in small circuits, watching closely at the front entrance in case someone managed to see us.

"Does Northern blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles asked Derek.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to die without it."

Stiles and I both graced him with horrified stares then exchanged looks of our own. I couldn't believe what I just heard. He couldn't really die from this, could he? God, I hoped not. Maybe he was just being overly dramatic. I would know. I was guilty first hand of that.

"Let's get him inside," I said when I noticed his skin get paler. I helped Derek up as Stiles checked the coast to see if it was clear. The clinic was empty and dark but Stiles led the way toward the examination room. Derek's arm found my waist again and I tried not to stumble to the side by his weight. He started taking off his shirt with one arm, pushing against Stiles, who tried to fling him off.

I felt the wall next to me, patting and grabbing until I found the light switch then flicked it up. Derek surveyed his arm on the metal table, and it looked worse than before. The smell was really starting to get to me and I used the sleeve of my jacket to cover of my nose.

"You know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night of sleep couldn't take care of," Stiles suggested. He probably would've suggested anything in order to get the hell out of there.

"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me," Derek rasped, fumbling over to the drawers. He sacked through the cabinets.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Is there another way?" I asked Derek.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time... last resort," Derek said.

"Which is?" Stiles said.

Derek held up a saw. "You're gonna cut off my arm." Stiles reaction mirrored my own. He looked mortified.

"I hope you take wood shop," I muttered to him and he glared at me. It would've came in handy, if he had taken it.

I guess he decided to take revenge for my comment. "Me? Why not have your girlfriend do it?" He exclaimed, jabbing his thumb toward me. I lightly smacked his arm.

Derek growled, low but deep. "No. You."

He fished out a strand of blue string and looked at me before wrapping it around his bicep. "Wait outside," he ordered coldly. I was about to protest, but the look he was giving me said that he would throw me out himself if I didn't listen. I sighed and turned toward the exit, but a hand grabbed a fistful of the hood of my jacket, yanking me back roughly. It was Stiles.

"No no no, you _cannot_ leave me here alone with him!" He pleaded. I jerked free from his grip.

"What do you want me to do?" I quipped, holding out my arms a little. "I'm not a Shaman. I don't have healing powers."

"Why don't you operate on him?" Stiles said.

"No way," I shook my head crazily. "You do it. Be the big brave man." I wasn't good with bodily fluids. The smell would make me sick and I'd probably fall, hit my head and end up in a coma for two years. I was already starting to feel queasy as it was by the liquid gushing out of Derek's arm.

"You're his girlfriend! You do it."

"Stop saying that. I'm not his-"

"Stiles," Derek growled again, ambling over to the table. He gave Stiles a harsh look, signaling for him to shut it then started to knot the string around his arm.

"Oh my god," Stiles groaned, inspecting the saw then tossing it down on the table. "What if you bleed to death?" He asked Derek.

"It'll heal if it works," Derek clarified. If? I thought to myself. I hoped that worked more than just_ if_. Was this even really happening? Or did I fall and hit my head while running down the stairs and this whole thing was a hallucination? Although, at that point, I honestly didn't know if that theory would be any better.

Stiles looked like he was about to throw up. "Look I don't know if I can do this."

"Why not?"

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the _blood_!"

Derek sighed, dropping his shoulders. "You faint at the sight of blood?" He sounded shocked and angry at the same time.

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!"

I actually had Stiles' back on this one. "I would too," I admitted shamelessly, crossing my arms. Derek gave me a funny look.

"You see?" Stiles said, grinning that I was on his side.

Derek rolled his eyes. "All right, fine. How about this? Either you cut off my arm or I'm gonna cut off your head."

"Okay, you know what, I'm so not buying your threats any-" Stiles was cut off by Derek grasping his shirt and pulling him face to face. "Oh, my God.  
Okay. All right, bought, sold. Totally. I'll do it, I'll do it."

Derek still didn't let go right away despite Stiles' sudden agreement. "Derek, he can't help you if you kill him," I reminded. Stiles shakily pointed at me, showing that he agreed. Derek glowered at him but began to relinquish his hand. I was surprised that he was listening to me.

But then, Derek started coughing violently, his grip coming loose on Stiles as he lurched over.

"What? What are you doing?" Stiles said. Derek leaned over the table and retched up a disgusting looking black substance. I thought it was blood but I couldn't tell for sure. The smell was awful. It was like burnt sugar and sour milk. I covered my nose with my arm from the stench.

Stiles was just as traumatized as I was. "Holy God, what the hell is that?"

Derek was still leaning over the table. "It's my body, trying to heal itself," he wheezed.

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it."

"It's getting worse," I realized. The look in Derek's eyes was like a silent confirmation.

"Now. You gotta do it now."

"Look, honestly, I don't think I can."

"Just do it!" I flinched at Derek's rough tone and instantly my stomach started to bubble when Stiles picked up the saw. Oh no, was he really going to...?

"Oh my God. Okay, okay," he said, sounding completely freaked out. He turned on the blade and held at Derek's infected arm tentatively. "Oh my God. All right, here we go!"

"I can't watch," I mumbled and hid my face in my hands. But the front door opened then and someone's footsteps pounded to us.

"Stiles_?_" A voice called and I recognized who it belonged to. Thank you, God.

"Scott?" Stiles replied, relief flitting across his babyish features. The tan skinned boy came around the corner, breathing heavily. His eyes widened when he saw the blade perched on Derek's bicep.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares," his friend responded. It looked he wanted to embrace the other boy in a hug and kiss him.

"Maybe you should start watching _ER_," I said to Stiles. He gave me a mocking expression. I felt eyes on me and realized that Scott was staring me. It looked like trying to figure who I was.

"That's Alessandra," Stiles introduced. "Derek's lady love." He said the last part in a slight sing-song tone. I gave him another punch to the arm, effectively wiping off that smug grin he wore.

"Ow, hey!" Stiles exclaimed, rubbing the spot where I hit. I doubted I even left a bruise.

I turned back to Scott and he raised his eyebrows at Stiles' remark. "Oh," he mumbled and rubbed his neck awkwardly. "It's good to meet you," he said earnestly.

I smiled at him. "You too."

"Do you have it?" Derek breathed, turning our attention back to him. Scott felt around his pant pocket and handed over the bullet. Derek took it and held it up slowly.

"What are gonna do with it?" Stiles asked.

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna," Derek eyes drooped closed and he fell onto the floor, unconscious. The bullet fell out his his hand and rolled under a metal storage rack.

Stiles and I were at Derek's side instantly, kneeling beside him. "No, no, no, no. Derek? Derek, come on, wake up," Stiles chanted. "Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?"

His friend was trying to retrieve the bullet. "I don't know! I can't reach it!"

"He's not waking up! I think he's dying. I think he's dead!"

"Just hold on!" Scott told us.

"He can't be," I said, almost to myself and touched Derek's forehead, feeling his skin burn up like the grounds of Hell. "How do we get him up?" I asked worriedly.

Stiles scratched the back of his head, looking at a loss for words. "Kiss him," he said suddenly, lifting Derek's head up toward me. My eyes widened and I shook my head, scampering back a few inches.

"What? No, you do it!" I countered.

"Why me? You're his girlfriend, you do it!"

"I'm not his-" I was about to protest but then I realized it was really no use to try to convince him other wise in that eccentric brain of his. "Hurry, Scott!" I called over my shoulder at the struggling boy.

"I'm trying," he replied.

I turned back to Derek and shook his shoulders, which did nothing. He was out cold. "Slap him," Stiles said out of the blue.

I stared at him incredulously. "In case you haven't noticed, I have noodley arms so I don't think I pack that mean of a punch. Why can't you do it?"

"Yeah, so he can wake up and snap my neck?"

"Oh, so you'd rather see me get crushed?" I threw back. Stiles parted his lips to say something but Scott intervened. He really knew when to come through at the right times.

"I got it! I got it!" Scott jumped to his feet.

I watched as Stiles readied his fist into the air. "Please don't kill me for this," he pleaded and socked Derek right in the jaw. It worked because the Lycan was awake in the blink of an eye.

"Give me," he whispered and Scott slipped the bullet in his hand. The three of us helped him up and over to the table. I stood across from him as he unscrewed the cap from the bullet with his teeth and poured the ash on the surface.

He ignited it with a lighter and I jumped back when it bursted into flames, steaming a bluish grey smoke. He collected the ashes into his palm, then, slowly, slabbed in all over his wound. The grunts of pain from him made me cringe and he stumbled back, falling onto the floor once more. Scott, Stiles and I huddled behind the table, watching in silence as Derek writhed on the ground. He let out a sharp yowl of primal pain, deep from his chest. I could've sworn I heard the rumblings of a wolf somewhere in there...

I sealed hand over my mouth as the bullet hole in his arm started to heal then eventually disappear all together.

"That. Was. Awesome. _Yes_!" Stiles cheered, pumping a fist into the air. Scott and I fixed him with looks like he was the weirdest kid on the planet. In which, he kinda was.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked.

"Except for the agonizing pain?" It was nice to hear Derek's deep, healthy voice. For a split second, I didn't think I would again.

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health," Stiles observed but immediately shut up by Derek's glare.

"Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone, you got that? And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything-"

Derek looked offended. "You're gonna trust them? What? You think they can help you?"

"Well, why not? They're a lot freaking nicer than you are," Scott said angrily.

Derek's eyes filled with ice. "Yeah, I can show you exactly how nice they are."

Scott gazed at him warily. "What do you mean?"

Derek straightened his shoulders a bit. "Follow me," he said coldly. I picked up his shirt from the counter, rolling the sleeves back to it's proper form. I handed it to Derek and he took it with softer eyes. He shrugged it on as we moved out the door. I felt his hand lightly touch the small of my back when we came in front of Stiles' jeep.

"Take her home," Derek ordered Stiles, who nodded in return.

"You got it," the boy replied, tossing the keys into the air and catching them in his palm. I gave Derek a tiny smile then turned to follow Stiles, but his hand clasped around my wrist, towing me back.

He stepped closer, enough for me to feel his body heat. "Be careful, alright? If something happens to you-"

I didn't let him finish because I knew he didn't have to worry. "Nothing's gonna happen," I told him calmly. "I'll be fine. I'm going to be with Stiles, what's the worst that could happen?" I said, gesturing to the boy. He glanced at the kid, who was whistling quietly to himself, swinging his key ring on one finger. Somehow he didn't seemed comforted by the idea.

He sighed and looked back at my face. He lifted up his hand and curled his fingers forward, motioning for something. "Give me your phone."

"What?"

"Just give me it."

I stared at him for moment then reached into my back pocket and passed it to him. He held it up and hit some buttons briskly. It looked like he was typing something in. When he was done he showed me what he put in.

It was his cell number, under his own name and all. "In case you need me," he explained. I smiled and put the phone back in my pocket.

"Thanks," I mumbled, and looked at the ground, unable to meet his gaze anymore.

"Are you lovebirds done yet?" Stiles snipped in the back.

"Shut up," Derek growled at him and the boy simmered down.

I laughed and glanced over at Stiles. "Be right there," I called back to him. Before Derek could turn away, I leaned up on my tip toes and pecked his stubbly cheek with a brief kiss in the same spot as I did earlier. He appeared stunned when I pulled back, so I ran off toward Stiles' car before he could notice my blush. It really wasn't like me to be so bold, but I was just so relieved he was okay.

**[O]**

The drive back to my house was calm and to be honest, a little unusual. This was the first time we had actually talked personally and it didn't exactly start out normally. Stiles didn't ask too many questions about how I met Derek surprisingly, though I think he was well disturbed by the fact that I may have liked the brooding wolf a bit.

Did I like him?

I didn't know. I mean, sure his friendship was oddly nice to have but there was that small, lesser dominant voice in my head that told me that everything wasn't exactly as it seemed to be. My parents were keeping stuff under wraps like a fortune cookie, and Derek might've been too. What more could he be keeping from me...?

"Ugh, I don't know what you see in him," Stiles grumbled as he drove steadily. It kind of surprised me how much he disliked Derek, but at the same time, it was understandable.

"Well, I don't know what you see in Lydia," I shot back. The mental image of the red-head made the smell in my nose turn sour.

"A hundred and twenty pounds of brains and sex appeal," Stiles said luridly. I had a feeling he was thinking very perverted thoughts, which I found creepy. But what more could be expected from a hormonal teenage boy?

I made a disgusted face. "Please, she has the personality of a wet mop."

"I think you're jealous," Stiles accused, grinning a little. I wanted to punch him in the arm again but kept myself from it. He was probably tossed around enough by Derek.

"I think you were deprived of oxygen at birth," I replied, watching him for an answer. His lips parted as if to speak but then made a little pout, like he was short on comebacks. I chuckled at his expression and relaxed in my seat, the strange clunky persona of the jeep feeling pretty warm and comfortable.

I couldn't really sum up the entire day in a few short words like I normally would, but one thing was for certain, it had taken the cake for the weirdest first meetings ever in my life.

* * *

**A/N: I think this is one of my favorite chapter's so far. :) I hoped you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know what you think?  
**

**Thank you for all the support! It means a lot to me. :D The next chapter should be out fairly soon, around this weekend. It's already typed up, I just have to check it for mistakes.  
**

**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! :D**

**Sorry if there's any typos I didn't catch.**


	5. The Hunters and the Hunted

_I always trust my gut reaction; it's always right._

**- Kiana Tom**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**The Hunters and the Hunted**

* * *

On Sunday night, my parents took me out to one of their favorite Italian restaurant outside of the city. It was pretty fancy and the service was great, but the whole trip was suspicious to me because we only went out to places like that when I had achieved something worth celebrating. And I hadn't gotten any A+ grades during the past few weeks. But I had a feeling they were doing it to get my mind off the weird occurrences happening around Beacon Hills. Either that or trying to butter me up for the dreaded upcoming Parent-Teacher conference on Monday evening. I hated those so much. Every time the same verdict came back to haunt me.

"Alessandra is a very bright girl but she doesn't apply herself like I know she can," that's what they'd always say. Then of course my folks would come home and give me the stern hands-on-hips, 'you need to buckle down' talk. And then I'd roll my eyes and tell them to chill out.

But to my surprise they didn't even mention anything about the event when we got home from dinner. Maybe they had exerted themselves from our rather comical night out. We had a good time, I admit. Probably one of the best nights I had since moving to Beacon Hills. My dad had to impress absolutely everybody and order everything in his own native language. I couldn't speak very much Italian except for "Hello," "Goodbye," and "How's the weather?"

My mom and I took it upon ourselves to order every dessert item off the menu and decide which one we liked best, which certainly kept some of the chef's and waiter's hands busy. Some of them looked really pissed off but I was too absorbed into stuffing my mouth with chocolate cheesecake to even notice.

It was around 10:30 PM when we got home. I put the leftovers we brought back from the restaurant in the fridge then went upstairs to my room to get changed. Before I could even shrug off my jacket, I noticed a little sticky note taped to my computer screen. There was hand writing on it. Small and scrawled but clean. I went up to my desk and carefully tore it off.

_**Keep your window locked tonight.**_**  
**

There was no name printed on the bottom but I knew who it was from. Who else would creep through my bedroom to plant such a message? I glanced back at my window and saw that the curtains were closed. Funny, I had them open when I left early that afternoon.

I wadded the note into a ball and tossed it into the trashcan. When I turned toward my dresser, I also noticed something off about my desk. I always kept a black picture frame of my parents, my older cousin Ellis and I together at a family gathering that was taken a couple of years ago next to the computer.

The photo was there and intact but...the section of me was completely ripped off, the edges perfectly torn off. I picked up the frame and inspected the back of it, but it looked like it hadn't been tampered with at all. Did Derek take it? I thought. Why would he want a dated photo of me? It wasn't even a nice one. It wasn't taken in Beacon Hills, but back in Boston, Massachusetts where Ellis lived with his parents and many other of my extended family. The picture was snapped during one of our very rare family "reunions."

Turned out that I actually had quite a bit of relatives scattered throughout the U.S. Most of them resided in Italy, but the closer ones were in Boston. Before we came here, I begged my parents that we move there instead. I guessed it was better that it happened this way.

I sighed and set the frame back down to its proper place then started to change for bed, thoughts in a tangle about my green eyed intruder. I checked the locks on my window pane and sealed them tight. I didn't know why Derek wanted me to keep them closed to badly but whatever the reason, it must have been serious.

And I knew going against it would not be wise.

I dressed for bed slowly, slipping on some pajama pants while my thoughts were twisting in circles. I thought about Derek as I got comfortable under the covers, and wondered what he was doing at that exact moment. Was he out there, somewhere? Hunting for answers? Or was he alone at his run down, empty shell of a house?

Whichever it was, I hoped he was as safe as he wanted me to be.

**[O]**

People were finally starting to open their eyes at school. Reports of animal attacks were finally being acknowledged and buzzing around like annoying flies. It made me think of what happened to that bus driver and I wondered if it was the same..."animal."

Thought I had to be honest with myself. A rogue werewolf terrorizing Beacon Hills? Yeah, that was definitely not good. I wasn't even sure how they'd catch. No one was supposed to know about them. Maybe that's why Derek left that note on my computer. He didn't want whatever that attacked the store clerk to come and hurt me. I should've felt comforted by that notion, but it made me want to constantly check over my shoulder every second.

I think Jackson got the worst of it. Him and Lydia were at the video store when the attack happened. He had been acting so sketchy all day. You couldn't walk past him without him jumping out of his skin.

And Lydia, well she was missing in action so there wasn't much I could say about her.

After lunch, I had Economics which I was almost late too since I left the book in my locker. I half sprinted down the hall, nearly leaving smoke in my tracks by how fast I was moving. I knew Coach Finstock would just blow even if I was half a minute late. I never bothered calling him _Mr._ Finstock, because, well...the title just never deemed to be appropriate for him. The guy was a ticking time bomb.

I rummaged through my locker until I found the book buried deep way in the back. I tucked it under one arm, and closed the locker door. Before I could turn around, someone touched my shoulder. A heavy, strong hand. I whirled around, slamming back against the lockers, startled.

It was Derek, looking at me intently.

"Derek?" I said, my voice rising in surprise. "What are you-"

"Shh, not so loud," he murmured, scanning around the halls. "I needed to see you," he said urgently.

"Why? What's going on?" I asked.

"I needed to make sure you were okay," he said lowly, hand tightening a little on my forearm. "Stay at home after school. I can't protect you if I don't know where you are." His eyes burned with emotion I had never seen before, and I knew that something was bothering him.

"You don't need to. I'll be fine," I told him.

Derek's eyes hardened and he pushed me further into the locker. "Alessandra, you need to listen to me. I'm telling you this for your own good. If you get hurt-"

"Derek, seriously, you don't need to worry. I'll be okay," I said exasperatedly, cutting him short. "Trust me for once, please?"

Derek sighed and his shoulders relaxed a little. "Look, can you just promise you'll stay where I can see you?" The comment made him sound like my baby sitter. But I nodded anyways.

"I will. I promise."

"Good, because I'm dropping by your house later and I don't find you there, I'm hunting you down."

"How thoughtful," I muttered, but I guessed I shouldn't have been too snippy. He was only looking out for me. "Don't worry, okay? I won't run off anywhere. You have my word," I reassured him.

Derek looked relieved for a moment and carefully cupped my cheek in his rough palm, stroking the skin with the pad of his thumb briefly. Then he turned and started to walk away after but I called after him. He stopped and turned halfway around.

"Did they ever catch who did it?" I asked.

Derek shook his head. "They're passing it off as mountain lion."

"A mountain lion?" I muttered. "But...if it was a mountain lion, then why didn't it kill Jackson?" Something just wasn't adding up.

Derek looking into my eyes gravely for a few seconds. "That's what I'm going to find out," he answered cryptically then disappeared out the double doors, though I had a feeling he wasn't going to leave school grounds. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and scurried to class. I made in just in time.

There was an empty seat right behind Stiles, and in front of him. Scott was nowhere to be seen, which I thought was strange because they always sat within close proximity to each other in shared classes. They had almost every class together.

I claimed the seat in front of him, and almost immediately, he was leaning over to whisper in my ear.

"Have you heard from Scott?" He asked urgently.

"No, why? Isn't he in school?"

"I don't know. I can't get him on his phone."

"I haven't seen him all day," I told him. He didn't answer me and just slouched back in his chair, mouth twisted into a perfect knot. I pondered where he could be and then I remembered I hadn't seen Allison the entire day either. Was it just a coincidence?

I turned back to Stiles. "Have you talked to Allison today?" I murmured. Stiles shook his head and shrug his shoulders a little.

"I looked for her earlier to wish her happy birthday, but I couldn't find her anywhere," I explained. We stared at each for a moment, the same thought seeming to spin in our heads. Wherever they were, they were most likely together.

I turned back around before Coach Finstock could catch us and grill us for it.

When the bell rang, I scouted the halls for Allison, checking almost every nook and cranny but there was no sign. I was hoping so find her at her locker, so I could ask if she liked the charm bracelet I sneaked into her locker early before first period. But nothing...not one trace that she was anywhere on the campus.

Maybe she was sick and stayed home? Or she could've just...skipped? That assumption seemed so unlikely for her, but at that moment, _anything_ was possible. It would have been silly to disregard them now, just for the sake of it being even a little irrational.

The day ended in a blur. Stiles was preoccupied with tracking down Scott, and everyone was acting so sympathetic about Jackson. Everything was just not normal. And there was still no return of Julie or Lauren. Either their mono cases were more serious than I thought or something else was going on with them. I tried calling them on their cells but it just went straight to voice mail. What was happening? This wasn't an average day in Beacon Hills High.

Things were getting out of control.

And I didn't think we'd ever get back to the way things were.

**[O]**

Home was the only place I could ever allow myself to relax and feel safe. I fixed myself a quick snack in the kitchen before retiring to my room. I kicked off my shoes, then sprawled out on my bed to skin over my homework notes. I got about ten pages worth of work done before my eyes started to feel sleepy. I tried to stay awake to at least finish another page but I ended up snoozing away with my cheek pressed to the cover of my book.

I don't know how long I was out, but after what seemed like only minutes, I was awakened by a light tap on the window. I tensed with alarm, lifting my head up. Who the hell could suspend themselves thirty feet in the air to knock on my window?

No one entirely human.

I slid off the bed and pulled back the curtains cautiously. Derek was balancing himself on the other side, looking tired from what I had guessed, running all the way to my house. And to add to the mix, he was shirtless. Was this the check-up he coyly hinted at earlier?

I unlocked the window and pushed it up. "Derek?" I whispered so my parents wouldn't hear. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Derek grumbled. "Can I come in?"

I moved to the side. "Yeah, sure." He came in feet first, not making a sound when his shoes thudded mutely on the carpet. I shut the window and yanked the curtains closed quickly in fear of prying eyes.

"Is there any particular reason you aren't wearing a shirt?" I asked him warily. I wasn't necessarily complaining about it but I had to admit, it was hard not to stare when he looked like that.

Derek glanced down at himself, probably remembering he was scantily clad. Well, half at least. "It's hard to put one on when bullets are flying at you," he replied, looking around my room lazily.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" I said.

Derek shook his head. "It's nothing. Forget about it." He ambled along my room, looking very out of place. He gestured toward my bed. "Do you mind if I...?"

"Oh yeah, sure," I said quickly and snatched up mu books to make space. He sat carefully on the edge, running his hands tiredly through his hair. I tried to to focus on the way his shoulder muscles flexed when he rested his arms on his knees.

I sneaked out quietly and went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water for him. My mom was at the counter, chopping vegetables on a cutting board. She looked over at me as I filled a glass up.

"Dinner will be ready soon, sweetheart. Come back in twenty minutes," she said as I nearly ran from the room.

"Will do," I called over my shoulder and bolted back to my room. When I came back in, Derek was in the same exact position, but he lifted his head when he heard me close the door.

"Here, drink," I said and handed him the glass. "You look exhausted." To my surprise, he didn't object and took the glass silent, chugging the water down in three large gulps.

"Thank you," he said when he was done. I took the glass back and put it on my desk.

"You're welcome," I said and curled up on my computer chair, facing him. "Now are you going to tell me what happened?"

Derek's jaw clenched tight, his back muscles going rigid. The softest of growls escaped from his throat. "I was attacked," he said angrily.

"By who?"

"It doesn't matter. They wanted me dead."

"But you haven't done anything wrong," I said in his defense. Derek let his head fall, masking something he didn't want me to see. I quietly eased off my chair and sat next to him, but left some space between us.

"You can stay here as long as you need to. But I think you'd funny if you changed into one of my shirts," I said to lighten the mood. He chuckled very lowly at that, barely audible. His arm extended and curled around my waist, sliding me closer to his side. My leg brushed against his jean covered one and I could smell musk from the woods on his skin.

I leaned my head against his chest, my cheek pressed to his pectoral muscle and I could hear the steady beat of his heart. It felt strong, louder than the few I've heard. Most sounded the same, but his had a unique pattern, like war drums. I looked up at him and he met my gaze levelly. Slowly, almost tentatively, he brushed a lock of hair away from my face, his thumb lingering around my cheek bone. I panicked internally, despite of the somewhat chaste gesture, but remained completely still.

_Don't freak out, don't freak out, _I told myself._  
_

I could feel the warmth radiating off his chest, and his breathing became more heavy, enough for me to hear his deep intakes. It reminded me of the moment I laid my hand on his shoulder the day he got shot in the arm. He heated up like an oven, but his body remained calm. Though his left hand was clutching a fistful of my comforter, hard enough to probably pop some of the seams off.

"Alessandra? Dinner," my mom called from the bottom of the staircase. Derek tensed at the sound of my mom's voice, but relaxed after a bit and let his hand fall down to his side.

"You should go," he said quietly and I stood up.

"Do you want me to bring you anything?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he answered.

"Are you sure? Cause' I can-"

"Alessandra," Derek sighed, looking up at me with sharp eyes. "Go eat."

I nodded and gave a smile before scurrying downstairs.

I tried not to stuff my mouth with food all at once at the table and shovel it down, but I was worried that Derek would be getting bored up there all by himself. I thought about what he could possibly be doing and prayed he wouldn't have the nerve to go through my stuff. If so, I might just have to kick him in his werewolf-

"More salad, honey?" My mom asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"No thanks," I replied and finished up the last of my Chicken Risotto. My folks went back to their enlightened conversations while I slurped down the remnants of my soda. I stood up once my plate my empty.

"Night. I'm going to bed," I announced and pushed my chair back.

"Not without dessert first," my mom said cheerfully. I groaned and sank back down when she went into the kitchen and brought out a glass serving dish of Chocolate Cake. She cut me a fairly huge piece, so of course I had to stay and eat the whole thing.

After excusing myself once and for all, I retreated back to my room, half running up the stairs. I opened the door slowly so the hinges wouldn't squeak. Derek was still on my bed, but laying flat on his bed with his hands clasped behind his head, eyes closed - asleep.

I froze, staring at his body looking so comfortably nestled like that. I closed the door and tip toed to his side. I tried not to make the bed dip as leaned next to him. His broad chest rose and fell slowly, and his features looked oddly younger when he was sleeping. My eyes trailed down his arms, all the way down to his abs which looked hard as a rock. I could already feel my face flush and I wasn't even making physical contact with him. Hormones kick in at the greatest times.

"See something you like?" Derek asked without opening his eyes. I almost flung myself away by his surprise remark, crashing against my wall. His eyes opened gradually, a smile behind them, and he turned his head to look at me.

"You jerk," I muttered and glared at him. He only chuckled and sat up straight. His arm bumped against one of my stuffed animals, knocking it down. He picked it up and examined it's puffy face. The happy, smiling giraffe looked back at him.

"You have too many stuffed animals," he snipped when I fixed a teddy bear that was leaning crookedly.

"I can never have enough," I answered back, patting the bear back into it's place.

"What are you, five?" Derek asked. Well, someone's sass button was turned on.

"You're close," I said and sat back on my computer chair to finish my homework. I saw Derek roll his eyes which made me laugh then opened my chemistry book, flipping to the eleventh chapter.

I didn't know how long I would be able to concentrate with Derek in the room but I gave it all I had. I held my pencil tight and stared at the first paragraph, not really reading the words. I started skimming over the pages nervously when I felt eyes on me and I caught myself reading a sentence more than once.

"Would you stop that?" I commanded, turning to glare at Derek.

"Stop what?" He replied, sounding puzzled.

"Stating at me like that. It's weird."

Derek smirked. "I'm sorry, am I making you nervous?"

I rolled my eyes. "Actually, you're being really distracting," I paused for a second. "And annoying."

"Ouch. That hurt," Derek said, faking dejection. I bunched up a piece of paper and chucked it at him but of course with my aim, I missed. That made him smirk even more. He looked so smug. But somehow, I found the urge to smile a little and turned back to my work.

After a moment though, a thought struck me. How long was he staying?

"Are you staying for the night?" I asked when a minute or so passed.

Derek quickly shook his head. "No. I've already put you in danger as it is."

"You can if you want to, you know. I was just wondering," I explained. "It's just not everyday that I have this sort of...company."

"I can't put you at risk. It would be better if we-"

"Were apart," I finished for him, nodding. "I know." We stared at each other for awhile before I broke eye contact. I sighed and returned to my work and this time I was able to concentrate a little. Before it got dark, I heard Derek stand up.

"I should go," he said calmly and turned toward my window.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I've been here long enough," he replied, pushing my window pane open. Before he could vanish over the other side, I jumped from my chair and hurried to the door.

"Wait," I called, gaining his attention.

"What?" He said.

"Just wait. Don't leave until I get back." I crept into the hallway and went into my parents bedroom. I sacked through my dad's drawer where he kept all his shirts, searching for a suitable one that might fit Derek. I chose a dark blue one that looked a bit questionable in the size department but it was better than nothing. I wasn't sure if Derek fancied button ups anyways.

I ran back to my room, happy to see that he had waited like I asked. "Here," I said and held out the shirt. "It would look pretty suspicious if someone saw you running from my house half naked."

Derek chuckled and shrugged it on. It was snug along the chest and bicep area but it would've had to do. I tried to stare so obviously.

"Lookin' good," I commented. He rolled his eyes then leaned forward, painfully slow and pressed a kiss to my forehead. It was chaste but yet still managed to get my heart pounding.

"I'll see you later," he murmured against my skin then disappeared out the window. I stayed glued to my spot for about two minutes, replaying the scene over and over in my head. I blinked quickly then forced myself to go back to what I was doing previously, which I had already forgot.

When I was laying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, I heard my parents come in downstairs through the front door. They had left right after dinner to go the Parent-Teacher meeting at school. I almost forgot about that...

I went down to see how it went, pausing on the last step when I heard them whispering in the kitchen. My mom spoke first.

"I told you we shouldn't have moved here. Gaius said that-"

"Gaius is an idiot," my dad cut in. "He was wrong. Alessandra will be fine. She's smart. She'll know what to do when the time comes." I moved away from the final step, coming closer the entrance. Why were they talking about my Uncle Gaius? I hadn't seen him since I was twelve.

My mom sounded worried. "I don't like this. If something happens we need to-"

"Wait. We need to wait, like we always have been," my dad said vaguely. I heard him kiss my mom on the cheek. Now was my time to dive in.

I bounded around the corner and got no impression that they knew I was secretly listening in. "You guys are back early," I noted.

"Oh hi, hon. I thought you were in bed," my mom said.

I shrugged on shoulder. "I couldn't sleep. So...how was the meeting?" I asked gleefully, watching them closely for any change in behavior.

My dad turned and smiled at me. "It was great, sweetheart. Mr. Sherman is very impressed with your performance so far in class."

"He is?" I asked, genuinely surprised. I thought he hated me.

My mom nodded. "That's right, hon. He wants you to take a special test at the end of the semester to see if you're ready for college."

"Wow," I said and rubbed the skin between my eyebrows. "Cool."

My dad opened the fridge for his favorite Bourbon drink while my mom removed her dangling earrings. I approached the counter and drummed one hand on the counter top, studying their sudden nonchalant behavior. I wanted them to know that I was on to them.

"So...did anything else happen?" I hinted.

My mom's expression seemed to falter but she smiled coyly. "Well, now that you mention it, there was this rather silly ordeal with some mountain lion." She shook her head and laughed, appearing to be amused by the thought that would have terrified most people.

"A...a mountain lion?" I repeated.

"Yes, it was loose in the parking lot but someone gunned it down in time, thank heavens. I think it was Allison's father. Wasn't it, dear?" My mom said, looking back at my dad, who leaned against the fridge, shot glass in hand.

His eyes narrowed at the mention of Mr. Argent, turning cold and passive. But he nodded anyways. "Yes...I believe it was." It was rare to see my dad clam up. He was usually pretty charismatic, if not a chatter box. Unless he just really, _really_ didn't like you...

"Was anyone hurt?" I asked.

"Sheriff Stilinski injured his leg. The poor man," my mom replied. I didn't say anything and just thought of everything I heard during the past week. Were the reports true after all?

I excused myself from the room and returned to my room, too dazed to even think clearly. I tried finishing homework but my brain was proving to be too overactive so I just ended up sitting in bed, clutching a pillow to my chest and my mind began to wander. When I started to feel sleepy, I got up to change into some sweatpants, but paused when my phone vibrated on my desk. Someone sent me a text. The screen lit up and I held it close to my face. It was from Stiles. Weird, I didn't remember giving him my number. I wondered how he got it...

There was a photo loading on the screen also, enlarged and low in clarity. But it brightened once it showed its full frame.

I nearly dropped my phone all together. My breathing hitched and memories on that night in the Girls' Locker room flashed in my head. It was...honestly, I didn't know what it was. It looked like an animal, a huge beast. With glowing red eyes. Just like the eyes I saw that time in school. Below the picture was a message from Stiles.

**'Tell me what you think this is.'**

I stared at the screen and blinked slowly, trying to get my brain working again. My thumb was shaking as I typed back a response.

**'That's no mountain lion.'**

I clicked the send button and let my cell fall on the bed. I paced around my room, biting my fingernails in a haste. If that thing was the one who almost attacked me in school then, what did that mean for the rest of Beacon Hills? Who would be next? I didn't know if I could just sit around and wait for it to happen. My parents could've been next. Maybe even Derek...

I forced myself to lay in bed and tried not to think about it. I'd think about it tomorrow. Tonight I'd just rest, mentally prepare myself for what would whatever happen in the coming morning.

Before I fell asleep, I overheard my dad in their room asking my mom where his favorite American Apparel shirt was.

* * *

**A/N: Alessandra's parents are so secretive, aren't they? :D Don't worry, I'll be giving off hints to what they're involved in with each chapter. :)  
**

**I hope you liked this one! It was a pleasure writing it. Thank you for all your reviews, favorites, and follows. You guys are great! :D Next chapter will start off briefly in Derek's POV, so you can get a glimpse of what's going in his head.**

**Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it. :)**

**Sorry if I missed any typos.**


	6. Things Better Left Unsaid

_We gain the strength of the temptation we resist._

**- Ralph Waldo Emerson**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Things Better Left Unsaid**

* * *

_- DEREK -  
_

Scott mentioned Alessandra that night.

Her name was foreign off the boy's lips, catching Derek off guard and he instantly slipped into defense. He didn't want to think about her, talk of her, let alone hear her name come out of anyone's mouth. Her sudden appearance made things...difficult. He needed to focus, concentrate on what he risked coming back to Beacon Hills for, but now it seemed like his thoughts only came back to same thing he wished to repress.

He snatched the phone from the babbling teen's hand and held it up. "You see this? This is why I caught you. You want me to teach you? Get rid of her."

"What?" Scott exclaimed, his voice growing more rasp with each word. "That's not fair. What about you and Alessandra?"

Derek's left hand clenched into a tight fist, claws protruding from the tips of his fingers the slightest bit despite his efforts to keep them retracted. "That's different," he gritted through his teeth.

"No, it's not. You can't tell me to stay away from Allison when you have-"

"I'm _not_ with her," Derek snapped, his patience wearing thin. Something inside his chest contracted at the acknowledgement that she wasn't his. It was the first time he said it aloud, the first time he actually told it to himself since meeting her.

She wasn't his.

_Not yet, _his inner wolf growled, much to his annoyance.

"I know when to stay away from her. I can control those urges," he further explained.

"That's not what Stiles says," Scott retorted.

"Stiles is an idiot," Derek stated plainly. "I don't want to hear about her anymore. She's not your concern." He took a deep breath to let the tension roll off his shoulders. "Are you going to stay away from Allison or not?"

"What, just because of her family?"

Before the boy could say anymore, Derek hurled his cell across the parking lot, shattering it into a million pieces when it hit the wall.

"Wait, wait! Whoa-whoa!" Scott cried in shock.

"You getting angry?" Derek asked, raising his eyebrows a little. "That's your first lesson. You want to learn how to control this, how to shift, you do it through anger, by tapping into a primal animal rage, and you can't do that with her around."

"I can get angry," Scott muttered, glaring so much anger at the elder wolf that fire should be coming out of his eyes.

"Not angry enough. This is the only way that I can teach you. Now, can you stay away from her? At least until after the full moon?"

"If that's what it takes."

"Do you want to live? Do you want to protect your friends? Yes or no?" Derek demanded.

"Yes. If you can teach me...I can stay away from her."

"Good," Derek sighed, and surveyed the boy for a moment, feeling the teen's anger burrow in the swell of his chest like a plant being potted in rich soil. If it was a different day, Derek might have even cared a little that he was upsetting the kid, nearly making him fly off the handle.

But he didn't.

Not today.

And why should he? It was for the kid's own good after all. They needed each other to survive. Despite how hard it was for Derek to admit that he needed someone else, it was something that he couldn't deny. Not even in his mind.

So, Scott would stay away from the girl like he said, but as he drove home, Derek couldn't help but reflect on the younger boy's words. They echoed in his head, like an etching of a tombstone and it made him feel as warm as a branding.

_What about you and Alessandra?_

He clenched his jaw sickeningly tight when the memory of Monday afternoon came flooding back to him, how he stumbled through her window pane, laid on her bed as she ate downstairs in her house, and came into contact so close with her that he was sure it would end up with him pinning her to the bed with his lips pressed to her own.

But it didn't end up that way, and Derek wasn't sure if he were relieved about it or disappointed. Alessandra's presence was still very much strong even when they were apart. The passenger seat of his Camaro still bore her scent and the leather plating had dents of her person already sunken into it.

He was so buried in his thoughts, he barely came to realize he was pulling a record-breaking 80 miles on the dirt road leading home. His foot eased up off the gas pedal a little, and he relaxed back into his seat when the headlights shined over the remains of the mansion.

_I can stay away from her._

You better, Derek thought to himself as Scott's fair weathered comment floated around in his mind. For the teen's sake, he hoped he would keep to that promise.

But in reality...

Derek was hoping he could do exactly the same.

* * *

_- ALESSANDRA -_

For the first time in months, I had a dream. And it wasn't just an ordinary dream about being married to a celebrity or something, but a different one. It was vivid.

I think it meant something.

I was in a room, a dark room with a long table in the middle with multiple chairs surrounding it. They were all empty but I could hear voices. Many voices, like there were people sitting in those seats but I just couldn't see them. Only hear them. And they talked all at once, a mixture of English and Italian that morphed into a single voice that sounded like an angry older man. Though somewhere amongst the noise, I could hear my dad. I couldn't understand what he was saying but his tone was dropped to a lower register, yet it was the most prominent to me.

I tried to move from the chair I was sitting on, but hands came down on my shoulders, forcing me to stop in my place. And those hands...felt a lot like my mom's. Small and gentle. That was the last thing I remembered before waking up.

I knew the day would be off from the moment my eyes opened, and what better way to start it was with my parents acting shady, as usual. They were fine to my face, but once I exited a room, I heard hushed whispers. When I'd ask what they were talking about, they just brushed it off, created a lame excuse and retreated to separate rooms.

And the other night during dinner when we ran out of napkins, I volunteered to go down into the basement to to get more but my dad jumped right up, insisting that he could instead. He played it cool, saying that he didn't want my food to get cold so he'd rather do it. Our old house in San Diego had a basement, but they never cared if I went in it or not.

What were they hiding from me? I thought we left our problems at our old doorstep.

Things were no different at school. When I walked into my first class of the day, I saw Stiles sitting in the middle row by himself, mouth twisted in a perfect knot. He looked royally pissed, to put it lightly.

I walked past him to claim a seat across from him, but he stopped me.

"Hey, can you do me a favor and sit behind me?" He asked.

"Why?" I said. Him and Scott usually next close to each other during shared classes. Was there trouble in paradise?

Stiles' jaw set tightly. "It's a long story. Can you just do it?"

I pondered it for a moment, looking into his wide, doe-like eyes. It was hard to say no to a face like his. "Uh, okay. Sure," I agreed. I took the space behind him and settled in.

"Thanks," he said, looking relieved. I smiled in return.

I took out my notebook and started to draw on the cover as the rest of class started filling. After about twenty minutes, I heard someone come up and stop right next to me.

"Mind if I sit there?" My head snapped up. I knew who that voice was.

Scott. He was looking down at me with a pleading expression. I glanced at Stiles and quickly looked back at me, shaking his head no. Why was he so against his friend all of a sudden? Maybe it had to do with what happened Monday night. His dad could've been killed by that mountain lion while Scott was lost in love. Did that cross the guy code?

"Uh, I don't know," I said awkwardly, feeling like a lab experiment under their eye.

"Please?" Scott said. "It's kind of important." He gave a small glance to his best friend. Oh no, he had that puppy eyes thing going on. Damn it, how did he do that?

"Alright," I sighed and got up. "It's all yours."

Scott grinned. "Thanks."

Stiles whipped around to look at me. "What the hell?" He exclaimed.

I felt a little bad for going back on our agreement but I couldn't just let their bromance crumble like that. So I shrugged one shoulder. "I'm not a relationship counselor," I said. "Work out whatever you two are dealing with."

Scott grinned a little at my comment while Stiles only rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, turning his back to his best friend. I guess the silent treatment was still alive and well.

It was so weird seeing those two on the outs. I couldn't recall any other occasion where one of them refrained from speaking to the other. But before the class even started, I glanced in their direction and they were talking to each other like nothing had happened. It made me smile.

At least some people could get over their problems.

The other periods went by quite briskly. Usually around eleven was when my energy meter started to go down, but I was so preoccupied I barely realized it was almost time for lunch until the shrieking bell rang.

When I claimed a lone table and laid out my munchies of chicken risotto and chocolate pudding, Allison came up to me with a reluctant looking Lydia trailing behind her.

"What do you know about wolves?" She asked the second she sat down opposite of me. Lydia surprisingly took the seat next to me. I could smell the expensiveness of her perfume. I inched my chair away from hers discreetly.

I thought about Allison's question, racking my brains for a quick but logical answer. "Um, just from what I've seen from the zoo. They're strong, fast, and mean."

Allison laughed at my observation and opened the book she was carrying. I spared a glance at my red-haired lunch pal and her lips were puckered with disdain, probably from having to be in the same room as me. I tried to ignore her as much as I could, but I didn't know if my willpower was that strong.

"Have you guys heard of The Beast of Gevaudan?" Allison asked.

"The what of who?" Lydia said, knitting her thin eyebrows together.

"The Beast of Gevaudan. Listen," Allison flipped to a chapter of her book and recited a passage. "A quadruped wolf-like monster, prowling the Auvergne and south Dordogne areas of France during the year 1764 to 1767. La Bete killed over a hundred people, becoming so infamous that the King Louie the 15th sent one of his best hunters to try and kill it."

"Boring," Lydia commented monotonously. I rolled my eyes and leaned in closer to hear the story better.

"Even the church eventually declared the monster a messenger of Satan." Creepy, I thought.

"Still boring." Lydia's sharp tone was like nails against a chalkboard to my ears and my fingers curled around the handle of the plastic butter knife on my tray.

"Cryptozoologists believe it may have been a subspecies of hoofed predator, possibly a mesonychid," Allison continued.

"Slipping into a coma bored." I was two seconds away from drilling the plastic knife into Lydia's leg, but Allison's story telling kept me still and quiet. I had to behave myself anyways. She probably would've ended up suing me for it.

"While others believe it was a powerful sorcerer who could shape-shift into a man-eating monster."

"Any of this have anything to do with your family?" Lydia asked.

"This," Allison said and finished the old tale. "It is believed that La Bete was finally trapped and killed by a renown hunter who claimed his wife and four children were the first to fall prey to the creature." She looked at the two of us, and smiled proudly. "His name was Argent."

"Wow, that's pretty awesome," I said. Allison smiled at me.

"Your ancestors killed a big wolf. So what?" Lydia retorted. She didn't seem impressed. Well, I thought the story was cool.

"Not just a big wolf," Allison said and turned the book toward us. "Take a look at this picture. What does it look like to you guys?"

For the first time, Lydia and I both shared a trait. We were both completely silent as the small, black and white photo of a large animal stared back at us. It's eyes looked so..._alive_. My fingers coiled around the knife again but it wasn't out of irritation. My heart was pounding but I had to act natural.

Be cool, be cool, I thought.

"It's a wolf," I said guardedly. Allison nodded at me then looked to Lydia, who still staring at the picture without a word. Her eyes were wide. She looked like she was in a trance.

"Lydia? Lydia?" Her eyes snapped up when Allison called her name, and in a second, her plucky persona was back in place.

"It looks...like a big...wolf," she smiled coyly. "See you History!" I watched the red-head go, and my guard fell down as soon as she was out the double doors. Attempting to keep the peace among the three of us by not speaking as much as possible around her was harder than it looked. I didn't want to constantly dodge her throughout the rest of high school, but it appeared I had to until I found an out a state college.

Allison sighed with disappointment at her friend's uninterested behavior, then closed her book and rested her arms on the cover.

"Guess she's not too fond of wildlife," I noted. Allison smiled but it looked forced, troubled. She was distracted about something.

I switched gears. "Is everything okay with Scott?" I asked carefully.

"He's been acting really weird lately. Every time I try to talk to him, he makes up some excuse and runs away." She leaned forward and rested her chin on her palm, looking at me intently. "Do you think he's getting sick of me?"

"I don't see how he can," I mused. "Maybe he's just...confused. I think he likes you, he's just scared of what he may be feeling. Boys get like that, don't they?"

"I don't know," Allison sighed, sounding stumped. "I just don't know what to do. I can't even get him to look at me."

I hated seeing her this sad. "Talk to him," I suggested. "Don't take no for an answer and ask him what's his deal is. Either way, at least you'll know where it stands."

Allison looked bummed for a moment, but then her expression shifted and her eyes looked fiercely determined. "You're right," she said. "I have to do it." I nodded, following her eyes when she skimmed the cafeteria.

"Isn't that him over there?" I asked, pointing over to a figure hunched behind a text book. The sleeves of the boy's shirt looked familiar...

"Where?" Allison said, perking up.

I pointed across from us. "Over there." We both looked at the table as one of the boys, who I realized was Stiles, get up and snatch away the other's book. It _was_ Scott. He scrambled off the chair to catch up with his best friend.

Why was he hiding?

"Scott!" Allison called when he headed for the door. She got up and collected her books. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" She said to me. I nodded. "Scott, wait!" I heard her say as she followed the direction where her boy went. I waved to her retreating figure.

I wrapped up my lunch bag, and deposited it in the trash can. Three more hours and I'd be home free.

* * *

_- DEREK -_

It all started with him speaking of Laura. His voice was soft this time, worn and exhausted. Sitting across from his crippled uncle is like looking into a mirror with large pieces missing. Distorted and unclear.

He took a moment to himself, breathing in steadily before meeting his kins eyes, and somehow it is so dull and hollow despite their brilliant coloring, like a low winter sun. There was no comfort in being with a loved one anymore. The last of his line. It was like looking at old notebooks of mocks and black humor of the things you should've done, but too blind - too young and stupid - to do anything about it.

He saw the reflection of all his deceased bloodline within those blue irises and the pounding in his veins increased. Hot and tangible, but still slow as if someone was injecting morphine into his arm to relieve the pain. There's nothing more he would like to do except seize his Uncle by the shoulders and shake him violently until he's forced to wake up and acknowledge that his only nephew was here and alone and lost and all he needed was _help_.

But yet he sat still, and somewhat alone in the cold caring center. Nothing to accompany him accept the repetitious buzzing of the air conditioner filtering throughout the building.

"There's...there's this girl," he blurted out without thinking and raised his chin a little with uncertainty to lock retinas with Peter. "She almost got attacked at school," he continued but this time it was like he was conversing with himself. On how he should handle these mercurial feelings of protection and his own self sense of what's right, what's wrong, or things you straight up just shouldn't give a damn about at all.

"I'm looking out for her, but I don't know if this is right," he started to say. "I want her to be safe, but there's no way of knowing if she is unless I'm around her. I don't know what to do. I can't let her-" he stopped midway because the word that popped into his head is something he cannot bring himself to vocalize no matter how much of his family it had already taken. No matter how many times he heard and saw the word, over and over again.

He just couldn't bring himself to say it.

So, he asked for guidance, mentioned the lacking of the Alpha's pack, even shoots the theories of someone of their line making it ouy of the fire but no matter how specific he was there was no response, and surely no movement. The silence was as distinct as the wind humming through the trees of a graveyard.

The frustration pumped through his body, cutting off any self control he seldom had at that moment, and before he could retrain himself, he grasped Peter's arms tightly, enough for the wheel chair to tremble by his assault.

"Let him go," a feminine voice ordered from the doorway. Looking up, Derek saw that it was his uncle's personal nurse, petite with deep auburn hair and sharp eyes.

"You think after six years of this, yelling at him is going to get a response?" She asked, irritation coating her voice. Her strong, unexplainable sense of loyalty was easy to sense.

"Got a better method?" Derek shot back.

"Patience. He'll respond if you give him the time."

Derek gazed back at his uncle, the unsightly scars painting his face were like taunts all of the things he failed to protect and keep. "I don't have any more time," he said before brushing past the short woman and leaving the care center.

* * *

_- ALESSANDRA -_

I didn't know if my folks were going through menopause or something but they were acting sketchy as hell when I got home. My dad locked himself in his study and didn't come out until dinner time, which he rarely did. Even my mom wasn't her normal, chatty self. Usually she asked so many questions about my day at school, and tried to get details about my growing friendship with Allison. The first time I told her, she turned it into a big corny thing, like Anne and Diana from _Anne of Green Gables_.

And the cherry on top of the sundae was what I stumbled upon in the basement later that evening. I technically wasn't really allowed down there, but I asked my mom where my old high school hoodie was and she replied that it was down in the basement packed away in old boxes. She quickly added after that she would go down and get it herself and that I should wait in my room.

But she was distracted in the living room watching General Hospital, and the volume was just loud enough to mask the creaking of the basement door opening. I crept down the cellar stairs and flicked on the overhead light bulb. It swayed back and forth as I tip toed through the dusty mess.

There were boxes littering every inch. Some smaller than others. I didn't know how I'd fine my hoodie through all of this junk. When I turned the left, something snagged my attention. Blurred and obscured from the low light. I approached it slowly.

Then froze.

It was a stone, tall and old looking, like an ancient religious tablet. There was writing on it also but it was very faded and I had to get down close on my knees to read it.

**_Consult the genius of the place in all;_**  
**_ That tells the waters or to rise, or fall;_**  
**_ Or helps th' ambitious hill the heav'ns to scale,_**  
**_ Or scoops in circling theatres the vale;_**  
**_ Calls in the country, catches opening glades,_**  
**_ Joins willing woods, and varies shades from shades,_**  
**_ Now breaks, or now directs, th' intending lines;_**  
**_ Paints as you plant, and, as you work, designs._**

I blinked once after reading the inscription and backed away from the plaque like it was giant snake. I had no idea what the passage meant or what it was even doing inside our basement, but one thing was certain...

It scared the hell out of me.

I ran up the stairs and sneaked away to my room before my mom could figure out I had gone down there. I tried to play it cool during dinner but my mind was scrambling around in terrible thoughts about what my parents were up to. What were they trying to hide? I think they noticed my trouble because they both each asked me if I was okay, to which I replied back with, "I just have a headache." They gave each other a long stare but ducked their heads and resumed eating.

Afterwards, I excused myself from the table and decided to go bed early. I tried to get some study time but my eyelids gradually became droopy so I ended up falling asleep around eleven o'clock. History always did bore me to tears.

But something tapped on my window, in what seemed like minutes later. I thought it was a tree branch at first or even a hungry squirrel, so I rolled over and went back to sleep, snuggling into the warm covers.

Seconds passed before it happened again, quicker and louder this time. I slowly opened my eyes, the tap coming again a fourth time. I almost scolded the little critter at my window pane to go away but then I realized...

It wasn't a squirrel, nor a branch.

A shadow shone through the glass, displaying over my bed. It was a _person_. A big person.

I jumped out of bed and covered my mouth with both hands. Don't scream, don't scream, I told myself. It's not a serial killer coming in to chop my head off. I sneaked closer to the window, breathing heavily. I didn't have anything to protect myself and I refused those martial arts lessons my dad offered to pay for long ago, which was a bad move.

So I quickly flicked on my lamp, hoping it would scare my unwanted guest away. But when I saw his face in the light, I felt like fainting. My airways tightened and all the feeling in my legs left me.

It was Derek, drenched in blood.

* * *

**A/N: I know this is a pretty short chapter and nothing much happens, but the next will make up for it. I promise! :)**

**Was the Derek POV okay? Third person writing isn't my strong suit so I hope it was decent enough. I wanted to give some insight on how he felt about all of it.  
**

**So did you like it? Let me know! :D**

**Sorry if there's any typos.**

***The scripture in the Aretino basement is actually real lines and has to do with Roman religion.***


	7. Mornings After

_One enemy can do more hurt than ten friends can do good._

**- Jonathan Swift  
**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Mornings After  
**

* * *

"Derek," I whispered with urgency and rushed to open the window for him. I tried to keep the hinges from squeaking as I pushed it up but it was loud. The cold air blew over my exposed skin and I shivered involuntarily.

Derek stumbled over the edge and nearly fell on the carpet but I hung onto his arm and did my best to keep him on his feet until we reached my bed. He slung one heavy arm around my shoulder as I guided him over to my mattress. Blood was seeping through his shirt and leaking down into his jeans. Some was even smudged around his lips and chin. It looked like a machete went through his entire abdomen.

"What happened? Are you dying?" I whispered to him but he didn't answer and just breathed heavily. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it up but Derek caught both of my wrists in his strong hands.

"No," was all he rasped out. "Don't..."

"You're hurt," I said. "Let me see it. I can't help you unless I see it."

He remained stubborn as ever. "I'll be fine. Just let me...let me rest," he breathed unevenly.

"But you're bleeding," I whispered. He didn't say anything and closed his eyes slowly, leaning back against the pillows. I stared at his exhausted figure for a moment, sifting through my brain for things I could possibly do to help, then quietly tip toed out into the hall and down the stairs, heading for the laundry room. I collected a handful of clean white towels from the dryer and a few wash clothes, dampening them under the faucet with warm water to scrub away the blood, then hurried back to my room. I froze before going up the first steps, listening closely just in case my folks were wakened by the slight racket I made.

But there was only silence.

I let out a sigh of relief then continued upstairs. When I came back in, Derek had moved from my bed and down to the carpet. His leather jacket was removed and tossed to the side.

"Take off your shirt," I whispered so my parents wouldn't hear. Derek glanced up at me and cocked an eyebrow, misconstruing my words. I rolled my eyes at him. He always had to find some sort of carnal meaning out of a completely normal request.

"Easy, romeo," I said. "I have to clean your wound. This isn't some blood fetish." He smirked a little by my comment and probably would have chuckled if didn't hurt him too much. I knelt down beside him as he carefully tore off his shirt and threw it in the corner.

The gash was worse than I thought. It was deep, and leaked dark blood like a running hose. How did he manage to come over here? I thought to myself. I folded one of the wet clothes and started the mop up the mess staining his skin. I dabbed around the wound, but yanked my hand back when he hissed in pain.

"Sorry, sorry," I apologized.

"I'm fine. Go...go ahead," Derek said unsteadily. I hesitated for a minute then resumed clearing away the blood. I used the big towels to wipe up the remaining droplets when my cloth became soaked.

After about a half hour of cleaning and sanitizing, the blood flow started to diminish and the skin around the wound was returning to its regular, healthy color. He was on his way to a proper healing. I stuffed the towels in the hamper when I was done then joined him on the ground at his side.

He was already looking a lot better, but I knew it would be a while before he would completely recover. He put on back his shirt but left his jacket off.

"I got blood on your carpet," he said sort of impishly.

"It's okay. I can bleach it out," I told him. I stretched my cramped legs out, accidentally brushing my knee against his own denim covered one. "Are you going to tell me what happened, or am I going to have to guess?" I asked pensively.

Derek took a moment to answer. "It was the Alpha."

"The Alpha?" I repeated, confused.

"He's the strongest of us," Derek explained. "He killed my sister, now I'm trying to find him."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I don't know. That's why I needed Scott's help."

"So, he attacked you?" I said guardedly, my voice dropping to a lower register. "Where? At your house?"

"The school," he replied.

"What were you doing there?" I asked.

"I was with Scott and Stiles. We were trying to-"

I cut him off by my semi-shriek. "Wait, wait, are they still there now?" Derek didn't answer me and I began to panic. "What if something happened to them? Should I call the cops?" My voice was shaky.

I moved to stand on my feet, but his hand held my arm down. "No, no," Derek said quickly, beads of sweat dribbling down his forehead. "No one can know about this."

"But what if they're hurt?" I said.

Derek's expression crumbled for a moment then turned stoic. "I guess we'll find out in the morning."

I looked down at my empty lap and bounced the heel of my right foot up and down, my nervous tick creeping back up. My mind raced with thoughts of Scott and Stiles at school. Were they okay? Safe? Or in danger? How could I just lay here with the town's secret Lycan like nothing was happening, knowing that someone was on the verge of being murdered.

I didn't _want_ to do that. I wanted to call for help, drive over there to see if they were alright, anything really. But I knew that wouldn't be a smart thing to do. I couldn't just take knee jerk reactions. It could put them in even more danger than they might've been in. A target was already put on my back. I didn't want one on my parents or my friends.

Or Derek.

I examined his injury and lightly touched the skin around it, feeling his flesh heat up a few degrees underneath my fingertips. "How long will it take for you to heal?" I asked out of the blue.

"A few more hours," Derek replied. "I won't stay long."'

"No, it's okay," I told him. "Stay as long as you want. It might be safer for you that way."

Derek stared at me intensely. "Are you sure?" He asked lowly. "I can leave before dawn."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I answered. "You're not exactly in any shape to be going anywhere." He laughed a little, soft but still masculine, and relaxed against my bed. I adjusted a pillow behind my back and leaned my head against the mattress. I was starting to feel drowsy but I didn't know if I'd be able to sleep on the scratchy carpet.

"Is there anything else I can do?" I asked through a yawn.

"No," Derek said, voice gradually becoming more even. "You've done enough. I'll heal on my own." His left hand drifted away from his abdomen and covered my own, fingers curling around mine. "Thank you," he murmured.

I smiled. "You're welcome." My hand was warm under his and started to tingle but I didn't pull away. I just shifted back against my bed and blinked a couple of times to keep my body alert.

I think Derek noticed I was getting tired. "Go to sleep," he commanded like he was my parent.

"I'm trying," I said in a 'duh' tone.

He sighed. "I meant on your bed."

"I'm fine right here." I heard a small, patronized rumble come from the back of his throat, that I guessed would only follow with another one of his attempts to intimidate me to do things his way. But I wasn't buying it.

"I'm not leaving you on the ground all alone. Now hush and rest before you wake my parents up," I told him sternly. I was expecting some sort of bitter comeback but surprisingly, I received none. Instead, I felt him shift beside, making himself more comfortable. His warm leg brushed up against mine, and I didn't even boil over internally. I kept my cool.

Maybe it was because I was so _dead_ tired. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning.

As my eyelids got heavier, my head gradually came to rest against Derek's shoulder. I guess he didn't mind that so much since he didn't say a word about it. I thought I felt his stubbly cheek rest on the top of my head, but I could have been dreaming it.

I fell asleep swiftly right after that and oddly enough...

It was one of the best night's of sleep I ever had.

**[O]**

When I woke, the sun was barely starting to peak up over the hills. I was laying on my bed, on top of the covers. Derek was gone, his jacket missing from the corner, and the curtains were closed. He probably left hours ago, while it was still muggy out, and as my parents slept on still. I held my breath to listen for any movement in the house but there was none. My folks were still in their room, slumbering.

I rolled over to my back and rubbed my eyes, then slid under the sheets. There still time for me to sleep before I had to get up and prepare for school, but my mind was so alert and I couldn't stop tossing and turning. I stayed like that for at least a half hour before crawling out of bed. A hot, early shower sounded good right about then.

When I was finished, I picked out my clothes for school then went downstairs to whip up something for a quick breakfast. I rarely ever ate before leaving so this was a treat for me.

My parents came skulking down the stairs an hour later. Utter shock flitted over their faces when they saw me sitting at the dining room table, enjoying a plate of waffles, and above all, awake before them. But they smiled and said 'good morning'. I shamelessly shot down my mom's question of if I had a "special someone". She's been asking that since Freshman Year. I guess she figured that would be the only reason I was up early.

I sneaked away when they started bickering about which one of them misplaced the coffee package.

When I put my school clothes on, I heard my cell phone vibrating on my desk. The screen flashed on and off, signaling a voice mail. I snatched it up right away, thinking that it was Derek, but it wasn't.

It was from Allison. She must've sent the message while I was eating downstairs. I listening closely as the recording played back.

"Alessandra? It's Allison," her voice sounded so thick, like she had just finished a long and heavy crying session. "Could you... could you call me back after you get this? I really, _really_ need to talk to you." I heard her sniffle, then the recording ended. I had her on speed dial, so thankfully calling back didn't take up much time.

I sat on my bed and waited for the dial tone to pick up.

"Hello?" It was Allison's voice, but she sounded more stable this time.

"Hey, it's Alessandra. What's up? Are you okay?" I asked.

"No, not really. Last night-" She was cut of by another voice, deep and muffled in the background. I thought I heard her say 'dad, wait' but it could've been my ears playing tricks on me.

After a few minutes, a different voice greeted me. "Who is this?"

_Damn._

It was Mr. Argent. He didn't sound too happy.

I stumbled over my words. "Oh, uh...hi, Mr. Argent. It's...it's Alessandra Aretino."

There was a pause on the other end for a split second. "I'm sorry, but Allison can't take any calls right now."

Well, that was unexpected. "Oh, okay then," I rubbed the back of my head. His voice made a chill go down my spine. It was like he could see me through the receiver. "Thanks for letting me know."

"Take care now," Mr. Argent answered, serious as ever.

"I will. Bye," I hung up quickly after that and took a deep breath. That guy sure know how to get me rattled, even on the telephone. I sighed and got up to retrieve my book bag from my computer desk, bummed that my chat with Allison had been cut short. Oh well, I could always talk to her at school, where her robocop pops couldn't tear her away. If he even lets her attend, that is.

I went downstairs when the clock struck seven thirty and my dad was already waiting by the door. He had a very gravely look on his face. "Bad news, honey," he announced. I blinked slowly at his tone. It was the one he always used when he wanted to have a "talk" with me. Better prepare myself.

"The school just called. It appears there was an incident that happened last night and they're going to be closing down the property for a few days," he explained seriously.

"Incident? What incident?" I said.

He shrugged, but the look in his eyes shifted. They were tense and alarmed. "I'm not sure. But the school won't be back up again until Monday."

"So...no school?" I said.

He smiled. "No school."

"Oh," I mumbled and scratched my forehead. "I don't know whether to be happy or concerned." My dad said nothing to that and just lumbered into the kitchen to get a drink before he left for work.

I wandered back to my room and took off my jacket and shoes. I flopped on my bed, sprawling out onto my side as I listened to the hands on my clock make that annoying little_ tick tack_ sound as it moved. I was about to hit the off button on it to cease the noise, but I noticed a little note in front of it. It looked like the one left on my computer a few days ago.

I sat up straight and scooped up the note. The hand writing was so familiar. I had definitely seen it before.

_**Unlock your window tonight.**_

I smiled.

_Derek._

He was coming back.

I set the note down, and laid back down in bed. I clutched my favorite pillow to my chest and closed my eyes. I didn't plan on sleeping, I just wanted some quiet time to myself. I really needed it, in amongst of all this chaos. My mind was the only thing that made sense to me. Sometimes...

After a few minutes, I heard the house phone downstairs start to ring and ring. Usually it was always picked up my one of my parents but my mom was out and my dad was somewhere in the house. It was still too early for him to leave for work. Maybe he was in his study and couldn't hear it.

"Isn't anyone gonna get that?" I called from my position.

Nobody answered.

"Guess not," I muttered then dragged myself off the bed and down the stairs. The telephone was still ringing off the hook when I reached it. "Aretino residence," I greeted.

"Maria?" A deep, throaty voice replied, mistaking me for my mom. I knew who that voice belonged to.

Uncle Gaius.

"No, it's Alessandra," I clarified.

"Oh hi, kiddo. You sound so much like your mother."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," I said with a chuckle.

"Is she home?" He asked.

"You just missed her," I said.

"I see. How's your old man these days?"

"Same as always," I paused for a minute, unsure of what to say next. "How's Aunt Lisette?" I asked.

"Good, good. I'll tell her you said hi. Ellis is looking forward to seeing you again," he stopped then, awkward silence swallowing us both. We hadn't talked in so long. It was kind of like meeting a stranger for the first time. I was about to say something else but the phone made a clicking sound, indicating someone else picked up the phone to join in on the line.

"I'll take it from here, honey," my dad's voice spoke up. I guess he was in his study after all, and heard the conversation from down here.

"Oh, okay," I replied but hesitated to hang up. Seconds passed and the three of us didn't say a word.

"Hang up now, Alessandra," my dad said sternly. I sighed and set down the receiver, bummed that I couldn't listen in on what they were going to talk about. Why wouldn't they include me on their gossip? I was apart of the family too. I walked stealthily up the stairs and pressed an ear to my dad's study door, but I couldn't hear anything except his soft murmurs over the phone. He was speaking in Italian. I pulled away before he could find out I was trying to eavesdrop and retreated back down into he living room.

Maybe some TV time would do me some good.

I surfed through the channels, flipping past all of the boring soap operas and cooking shows. I stopped briefly on a weather station then continued to changed it until I found one that satisfied me. There were just far too many weather channels and not enough entertainment. But there was one that I left it on. It was a local Beacon Hills newscaster, reporting about the attack that happened at school the other night. The remote fell out of my hands and thudded to the floor with a muted _bang_. I couldn't blink, much less even breath correctly.

I was shocked.

A janitor had been killed on campus by an unknown assailant. And they said that Derek was the one who did it. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to swipe away the mental images of dead bodies.

_It's not true. Don't believe it.  
_

_It can't be true.  
_

I knew it wasn't true. I knew it. It just wasn't possible. How could it have been? He was with me the entire night. He wasn't a killer.

Derek Hale was _not_ a killer...

...was he?

**[O]**

Monday morning could not come any slower.

The first two days went by quite fast, mostly because I had lots of things to do to keep myself busy as I never had a day where I could just do whatever I wanted. But Saturday and Sunday came as slow as molasses. Every time I checked the clock, it always seemed like the hour stayed the same. I thought about Scott and Stiles and what happened with him the night Derek crashed at my house. I wondered if the two boys were okay. I hadn't heard any news about the state of the school or students.

My thoughts even drifted toward the memories of that night in the Girls' Locker Room, all those days ago. Blood red eyes.

Was it the same person that attacked Derek? I hoped not...

But I couldn't help but think that it was.

Speaking of Derek, he _did_ drop by my house again like he insinuated on early Thursday morning. I was asleep when he came, but woke up by the left side of my bed dipping by heavy weight. My eyes flew open with alarm and I looked over my shoulder to see him lounging rather comfortably on the bed, wearing his dirty shoes and all.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, it's okay," I mumbled, still half asleep. "I don't mind waking up in the middle of the night thinking I'm about to be murdered." I could almost hear him roll his eyes in the dark.

I rolled over to my back and sat up with him, but a good amount of space between us, remembering what I had heard on the news earlier that night. I rubbed my eyes to let adjust to the pitch blackness. I didn't say a word and neither did he. When he shifted, brushing his arm against mine, I inched away, sliding toward the very edge of the bed. The police report flashed in my mind.

_Alleged Killer._

_Derek Hale._

"What's wrong? You're quiet," Derek observed.

"Nothing," I said quickly, pulling my knees up to my chest.

"You think it's me," Derek said sardonically.

I tried to play it cool. "What?"

"You think I'm the killer," he pointed out. I guess he was aware of the news reports about him.

"I never said that," I said.

He clearly wasn't fooled. "But you were thinking it."

I heard him exhale. "Alessandra-" He started to say, but I didn't let him finish.

"I know, don't say it," I told him. "I'm just being paranoid. And I have to trust you."

"At least I don't have to worry about your memory," he muttered.

I studied his outline. "You worry about me?" I asked timidly.

"What do you think?" Derek snipped, and I could almost see his smug little smirk in the dark. I suppressed a chuckle and rested my chin on my knees, listening as the wind outside rattled the branches against my window pane. I thought about his subtle confession, and it made the corners of my mouth twitch into a smile. It was funny how someone so brooding could still brighten my mood.

"Where have you been?" I asked him lowly after a few minutes.

"Around," he answered, sounding tired. "Avoiding the cops."

"Can't you just explain to them what happened that night? Without, you know, revealing everything?" I said.

"You think they're gonna believe me?" Derek asked sarcastically.

"Probably not," I muttered and lowered my head. I stifled a yawn and my head swayed from left to right out of sleepiness.

"Go back to sleep," Derek said, almost gently.

I yawned again. "I will if you will."

"Don't be so stubborn," he said.

"That's like telling an alcoholic not to drink," I noted. I heard Derek sigh and sink back a little into my fluffy pillows. I wished I had a camera at that time to capture the moment of him reclining into girly decorations. I let my head fall against the headboard.

Silence engulfed for awhile as we sat in the dark, listening to the ticking of the clock, or the occasional 'hooing' of the owls outside in the trees. The moonshine shining through my open curtains allowed me to see a bit of Derek's face, a flash of his eyes or a section of his chiseled jaw. He looked a lot better than the first night he stumbled through here, bleeding from the stomach, very much half dead.

He wasn't pale anymore, the smooth color returned to his cheeks and he stood with an upright position like he used to. Despite the scare he gave me previously, seeing him healthy again made me happy.

"What if the cops keep hunting you?" I asked suddenly. I heard Derek's deep intake of breath.

"Then I'll keep running," he said.

"You can't do that forever."

"I'd have no choice."

"Not true," I argued. "Everyone has a choice."

"Not me," Derek argued.

I sighed. "And you call me stubborn," I remarked. He chucked, and rested his cheek on the top of my head. I leaned my temple against his shoulder, and closed my eyes. Sleep was lulling me again.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" I whispered.

"I'll be out before your parents are awake," he said. That meant he was going to leave real early. My folks didn't wake up until six am. Still, I made myself comfortable and fell asleep, not stirring once except for when my alarm clock went off. The cloud cover was starting to decrease, so when I opened my eyes there was bright light shining through my window.

Derek was nowhere to be seen, but the weight of his body left a large print on the left side of my bed. It was like he was still there with me.

When I got ready for school, I had this odd feeling in the center of my stomach that something would go wrong that day. It wasn't like a feeling of aches or anything but it felt heavy and distinct. Like a bunch of knives were stuffed inside, pricking my skin, cutting little nicks. I tried to shake it off but the more I thought about it, the worse it became.

I skipped down the stairs, meeting my dad by the doorway. His expression was extremely somber and didn't even say 'good morning' like he always did. He just grabbed his briefcase and keys, then went out to his car silently. I trailed behind him. I knew something was going to happen in the car. I could feel it.

And it did.

"Sweetheart, we need to talk," he announced as I buckled in.

_Here we go again._

"What is it?" I asked half heartily. He had his lecture voice equipped.

"As you know, there has been some... differences since moving here. The schooling, certain people, even the food here is all very different from what you're used to in San Diego," he dragged on. Where was this leading to? This wasn't what I was expecting at all.

"I just wanted you to know that no matter how hard things may get for you, I know you can handle them because that's how your mom and I raised you to be."

"Oh um, well...thanks dad," I said carefully then glanced at him warily. Since he was being so open, why not try to coerce more answers out of him? He and my mom obviously knew more than they led on. More than me.

"Things have been pretty crazy here lately, huh?" I said coolly, watching closely for his reaction.

"Yes, I suppose so."

"All these animal attacks. Weird, right?"

"Mmhm," was his monotonous answer. Great, he was clamming up again.

"Do you thinks its been a mountain lion or...a wolf?" His eyes tightened the slightest bit when I said _wolf_, and I held my breath for his response.

"I don't know, hon. I think the whole thing is actually ridiculous. The County law enforcement could have caught it by now if they would have-" He stopped short, realizing that he was saying too much, then suddenly went quiet again, focusing on the road.

"If they would have what?" I prodded.

"Nothing, never mind," he brushed it off.

"But-"

"Quiet now," his voice was sharp and dropped to a lower register, the tone he always took when he meant no nonsense. I buttoned my lip right away and leaned my head against the window to count the telephone poles passing us by.

When we pulled up to the school, the parking lot was over flowing with cars. My dad couldn't park in his usual spot like he usually did when dropping me off so that ticked him off a bit. He had to stop right in the middle of the intersection, so I could get out without risking a collision with any other vehicles. I held the passenger door open as I slung my bag over one shoulder, one foot on the pavement.

"Have a good day, hon," my dad said, switching back to his happy tone.

"See ya, dad," I replied then got out and closed the door. I watched his car drive away out of sight, then turned and headed for the entrance doors. Before I could tread up the steps, I noticed Allison's red SUV parked right in front. I could see her silhouette in the back seats, and her dad was at the steering wheel. But there was someone else in the passenger seat that made me freeze in my place.

It was a woman, young looking from what I could tell, with dark blonde hair.

And she was staring straight at me.

* * *

**A/N: Here comes Kate! :D  
**

**So what did you think of this chapter? Did you like it? I'd love to hear what you guys think. Thank you all for the support. It makes me happy to know that people are liking this! :) Did I mention that you guys are the best? Well, you are. :D  
**

**Until next time!**


	8. Old Friends, Old Problems

_Some women feel the best cure for a broken heart is a new beau._

**- Gene Tierney  
**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**Old Friends, Old Problems**

* * *

I watched as Allison begrudgingly got out of her dad's car, slamming the back door behind her. She saw me walk up to the steps and waved to me with a smile. She looked happy to be out of her father's tenacious clutches.

"So you're on parole, too?" I asked her, inclining my head discreetly toward her pop's car. She chuckled and glanced back at her father's hawk like stare through the rolled down window.

"If you can call it that. I like to think of it more as a privileged prison," she said glumly as we headed for the school doors. I looked back over my shoulder and saw that the blonde woman in the car was _still_ looking at me intently as if she were aware of who I was. I admit, it was starting to creep me out. Was the entire Argent family this watchful or was it just her and Mr. Argent?

"Was that your cousin?" I asked Allison.

"Who?"

"Back there, in the car."

"Oh, that's my Aunt Kate," she said with a big smile. "She's staying with my family for a few days." That's her Aunt? I thought to myself incredulously, amazed. She looked like a retired super model.

"So what was the deal with the other night?" I asked Allison when I held open the entrance door. "What the hell happened?"

Allison glanced around us to make sure no one was listening. "Something - _someone_ - tried to kill us," she murmured. "Whatever it was, it killed the janitor and would've killed us too."

Whoa, I thought to myself. "How did you guys get out?" I wondered.

Allison's voice dropped, and the look in her eyes read that images from the previous night were coming back to her. "Scott locked us in. Then the police showed up. I don't know, everything was just..." She trailed off.

"Terrifying," I added. She nodded stiffly and bit her lower lip, ducking her head down to conceal her expression. It made me wonder what actually happened that night. Hearing about it and experiencing it were two completely different things.

We walked down the hall in silence for a minute before she spoke up again. "I broke up with Scott," she said without looking at me. My attention snapped to her.

I was astounded. "What? Why?"

"I don't think I can trust him anymore," Allison said thickly. Her eyes began to water a little and she sniffled. "He left us in that classroom."

"Maybe there was a good reason behind it," I said, hoping she wouldn't take it the wrong way.

But she sounded angry this time. "What reason? What good reason could there have been to that?"

I fiddled with the strap of my book bag. "To protect you?" I suggested. Allison grew quiet.

"Then he should have told me," she said after a moment of pondering. I said nothing to that, deciding that it would be best to leave the subject be and let her make up her own mind on what to do about her flighty relationship. She knew what was better for herself.

We split up when the bell rang, the start of the very first period. I had Chemistry and she had English but we both agreed to meet after Math, which we luckily shared.

I stared at the clock throughout my first two classes, tapping the end of my pencil on the cover of my notebook, gradually becoming more antsy and anxious with each _tick tack_ sound the hands made.

I was the first one out the door when the Teacher dismissed us. I don't know why but I felt the sudden urge to keep moving at all costs. It was bizarre, like I was feeling whatever happened last night left on the school. An after effect.

I tried to shake it off as best as I could, but it was sticking to me like a vengeful ghost.

I went to Math class in a daze, grabbing the first random seat I found and nestled myself there. Allison was already there, but tucked somewhere along the back row. I don't think she was fond of this curriculum either.

After the Teacher's lesson ended, I met Allison by the door and we agreed to walk together until it was time for our particular activities. After what supposedly happened last night, I don't think she wanted to be anywhere alone. I think most areas of the school gave her unwanted recollections. So I stood at her left and ol' firecracker was flanking by her right. And by firecracker, I meant Lydia. I failed to realize she was in the class too.

"It's just weird. Everybody's talking about what happened the other night and nobody knows it was us," Allison said with confusion as we stepped out into the corridor.

"Thank you for the protection of minors," Lydia snipped, sticking her head high in the air. Allison sighed and dropped her shoulders a bit.

"I wouldn't call it protection, considering some maniac almost slashed your throat about twenty four hours ago," I pointed out.

Lydia snapped her face to me, giving a cold glare. "It's such a shame you couldn't be with us," she said with false decorum.

I smiled. "I think I'll live."

Allison knitted her eyebrows together, letting her shoulders fall. "Lydia, do you think I made the wrong decision?" She asked her friend, evoking me to pause along with her to watch closely for her response.

"About that jacket with that dress? Absolutely."

Allison smiled slightly. "You know what I mean."

"Hello? Scott locked us is classroom and left us for dead," Lydia answered after a moment, irritation saturating her voice. I could tell that she wasn't too fond of the guy. "He's lucky we're not pressing charges or making him pay for our therapy bills."

"God knows you need them," I muttered under my breathe, hoping she wouldn't hear and rip out my throat with her manicured nails.

Allison glanced at her red-headed friend, raising her brows a bit then turned to me. "What do you think?" She asked. "Do you think I made a mistake?"

I paused for a second, picking carefully on what to tell her. "It's only a mistake if you regret it," I said.

Allison looked down at the floor after I said, our stride going into a shuffle. I thought she was going to cry at first, and I started to panic. I felt around my pockets for something to give her as a tissue.

But instead of waterworks, she looked over at me and smiled.

"Thanks," she said earnestly. "It's what I needed to hear."

I smiled and nodded. "That's what I'm here for."

"Ugh, please stop before I start projectile vomiting," Lydia remarked, rolling her eyes at us. I forgot she was there.

"Don't aim at your shoes," I quipped.

Allison chuckled, flashing me a grin which I returned. Lydia turned halfway to me, lips parted to give me a piece of her mind but then decided against it. I guess I wasn't worth her slaying humor. She adjusted the strap on her shoulder, flipped her hair back and stalked off ahead of Allison and I.

I watched her walk away, resisting the urge to burst into semi-hysterical laughter by the crazy look she had in her eye. I must've really gotten under her skin that time.

I glanced at Allison and her smile had faded and her fingers clutched the notebooks to her chest tightly. "Still thinking about him?" I asked softly. She nodded.

"It's just hard, you know?" She said. "Going from talking to someone everyday to not at all."

"I know the feeling."

"I have to get over it," she said, holding her head up high. "I have to."

"You will," I assured her. "Just don't beat yourself up about it. That won't help anything." Allison didn't say anything but I heard her exhale deeply.

We parted ways shortly after reaching her stop, having separate classes for the next couple of periods. I had Spanish coming up, so I collected my books from my lockers and followed the small herd that was already making their own way there. I hoped all the good seats wouldn't be taken before I had a chance to choose.

When I walked in, the teacher was writing something on the chalkboard, so all of the students were able to whisper and gossip without much reprimand.

I skimmed the classroom, spotting a free seat near the middle row. I stepped forward to claim it, freezing when I saw my best friends, or so I thought, sitting together in the second row. I guessed they finally wiped the mono disease clean from their systems. Good. That way they couldn't infect anyone else with it.

They barely noticed me when I approached them. Lauren always sat in front of Julie so they could chat whenever the Teacher had their guard down. It appeared I walked in on one of their enlightening conversations.

"So I told him I wasn't going to do it unless there was another girl and he'd have to ditch the video camera," Julie explained to Lauren, who was listening with unwavering concentration.

"You're back!" I exclaimed with genuine happiness. I hadn't seen them in days. I was beginning to think I never would again.

Both of them turned to me slowly. "Oh hey, Al," Julie greeted, and for once I didn't cringe at the nickname.

"Is that a new shirt?" Lauren asked me, eying my attire.

I glanced down at myself. "Uh...no, I've had it for awhile." Lauren made a face like she wanted to make a comment but held back.

"Do I mind if I sit behind you?" I asked them. The chair in back of them was up for grabs.

"Actually, do you mind sitting over there?" Julie seat, pointing a good distance down from us. "There's this girl who wears way too much Chanel Number 5 and it gives us a headache. Can you take her seat for us?" She smiled and her blue eyes glistened like they always did when she wanted me to do a favor for her.

They both looked at me with big, hopeful eyes. I tried so hard to resist but in the end...

I cracked. "Uh, sure," I said with uncertainty but moved down the aisle anyway.

"Thanks, Al. We owe you!" Lauren said with a wide grin. I forced a smile as I took my designated spot spaces down from them. Some other students filled the gaps between us and strangely enough, it felt like it was the status of our "friendship." Had our trio turned into a trio in the matter of a few weeks.

I peered around the head's of students and saw them talking again animatedly, whispering and laughing to each other, and sadly enough I suddenly knew what it was like to be picked last for Softball. It was the exact same emotion, except I couldn't take revenge by hitting one of them in the head with the ball.

When the class ended, they got up simultaneously and glided out of the room as if they were joined at the hip. I followed them a quarter way down the hall, contemplating on saying "Hey, wait up!" like I usually did when they walked ahead of me, but I realized I was being stupid. It wasn't worth it. They weren't worth it.

Not anymore.

I stood still in the hall for a moment as the other students strode past me to meet their busy schedules. I watched Julie and Lauren's figures grow smaller and smaller as they moved away from me, and weirdly enough a strong sense of freedom overcame me. I no longer felt burdened, guilt tripped or obligated to prove that I could be their friend again. The strings were finally cut.

I turned around slowly, giving my former friends a final farewell gaze then went back to my locker. I stored my History book away and traded it for my English one. There was still some time left until the bell rang again, so I decided to to class early so I could catch up on some delayed work.

My phone vibrate in my front pocket on the way there. I took it out and looked at the caller ID, seeing Derek's name flash above his cell number. I glanced around the hallway for prying eyes, then sneaked into the Girls' Locker room so no one would hear our conversation. I even checked under the stalls to make sure no one was holed up in there.

"Hello?" I answered, keeping my voice low to be safe.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked. He sounded concerned.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Why? Is something wrong?" I said.

"No. I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

"So you heard what happened to the janitor..." I said.

Derek's voice sounded heavy when he answered. "Everyone in town knows."

"Was it the Alpha who killed him?" I asked.

"More than likely," he paused for a minute. "Are Scott and Stiles...?" He trailed off.

"Yes, they're okay. Unharmed," I reassured him. He exhaled deeply on the other side, probably out of immense relief. I knew it would take a considerable amount of torture for him to admit this, but I knew deep down he really cared about those two boys.

"Are you staying at my house again tonight?" I asked.

"Do you want me to?" I swore I could almost feel him smirk over the phone. He could be so infuriating at times.

"Hey, it's up to you. Just let me know whether to leave my window unlocked or not."

Several minutes passed before he answered me. "Keep it locked," he said deliberately and I couldn't help but feel disappointed. "But expect me to stop by later."

But it was short lived and I smiled. "I assume you won't be using the door?" I guessed.

"Don't be a smart ass," he grumbled. I laughed and leaned against the sink. Silence came between us for a minute, neither of us saying a word. The palms of my hands were clammy and I couldn't help but to tell him a final request before he hung up.

"Derek?" I said, taking a deep breath. "Be careful, okay?"

The pause on the other side was fleeting. "You too."

**[O]**

Allison and I spent more time together during the day in between classes. Sometimes I'd see her drifting off when we talked, staring vacantly down at her notebook cover or at a spot on the wall and I knew she was thinking about Scott. I did my best to deter her away from those moments, but everyone has dark places and the only way to get over them is to go _through_ them. That was something my mom brought me up on and still to that day, I believed it.

During lunch, she sat with me and we went over exchanging Biology notes. I managed to get some overdue work done, and spending one on one time like this with someone else really took my mind off all the things that were happening around town. I cherished that feeling as much as I could, because I knew it would not last even remotely long.

"Want a cookie?" Allison asked me as I flipped through my notes. "My mom baked them." She pealed away the plastic wrappings and the smell of freshly melted chocolate and cinnamon filled my nose. It was like heaven.

"Sure," I said with a smile. "I never say no to sweets." I took one and nibbled around the edges as she munched through hers. As I was scanning through my folders, I heard a weight flop down in the space next to Allison.

I glanced up, seeing Jackson settled himself in comfortably.

"Hey, Jackson," I greeted coolly.

"Hey," he said in a friendly tone, smirking a little. But it widened when he looked over at Allison. She smiled back at him just as warmly. What was up between these two?

"Oh, man, you got something on your-" Jackson said, leaning close to Allison. "Here, let me," he ran his thumb over his bottom lip, whipping off a little smudge of chocolate. A little too slowly I might add. He even added a subtle lick of the thumb. Smooth.

I felt like waving my arms into the air and saying, "Hello, I'm still here. Don't get too hot and heavy."

They diverged into small talk for awhile, but I zoned out and tried to focus on what I was writing in my notebook. I came back though when I heard the mentioning of Scott.

"You still thinking about everything that happened" Jackson asked Allison.

"Mostly about Scott. I haven't talked to him," She said.

"Probably a good idea."

"You don't think I made a mistake, do you?"

"No. In fact, I think he got exactly what he deserves."

I didn't like the look on his face when he said that. There was something going on underneath that good looking face and strong jaw line. And adding Allison to the mix? Yes, this guy had "trouble" stamped all over him.

I narrowed my eyes at him as he sent Allison another flirty smile, by kept my head angled down at a inconspicuous degree. I scribbled down a few extra notes, looking up carefully when I heard Jackson stand up, holding his tray in one hand. He held eye contact with Allison for a dreadfully long time then looked at me.

"See you, Ally," he said, crowning me with a new nickname. What was with all the niceties?

"Bye," I said and waved. He turned and disappeared through the sea of hungry students. Allison watched his retreating figure then turned her attention back to her lunch. She smiled down at the table dreamily.

"Now what was that all about?" I asked, setting down my pencil.

"What was what about?" Allison said.

"That," I said. "Whatever you two have going on."

"There's nothing going on," she said with a chuckle, popping another chunk of cookie in her mouth. "We're just friends."

"Uh huh," I said, raising my eyebrows a little. I knew what was up. "Then what was with the eye sex?"

Allison laughed, sounding confused. "What?"

I sighed, pausing to think of an easier way to go about this. "What about Scott?"

Allison's bubbly expression fell and she looked down. "What about him?"

"Are you cutting him out of your life now?"

"I don't know," she said, chewing on her bottom lip. "Do you think I should?"

"I can't tell you what to do with your feelings, but all I know is that you shouldn't throw them away because you may be unsure of them."

Allison's lips quivered for a moment, but she looked up at me with a stable expression. "How do you do that?" She asked. "How do you keep yourself away from boy drama but still know exactly what to say?"

I shrugged and closed my book. "I watch a lot of _As The World Turns_." Allison erupted with laughter and I couldn't help but join her. Her giggles were so infectious.

After lunch ended and the final period breezed by, I stayed an hour extra in the library to check out a few books I needed for English, then moseyed my way down the hall. My dad called me earlier to let me know he would be coming at three thirty sharp.

But when I passed by an empty classroom, or so I thought, my peripheral vision caught quite a disturbing display. I froze in my tracks, turning halfway to the door.

Making out in front the baron teacher's desk was Scott and Lydia.

_Lydia._

I blinked quickly, making sure that what I was seeing was real and not some hallucination or some weird side effects from the Ibuprofen I took earlier for my headache. I held the new books I had just checked out close to my chest, standing there stupidly until one of them pulled away and realized I was there gawking.

Lydia looked over her shoulder and met my eyes through the glass, her own orbs growing wide and panicky when she saw that it was me. I turned quickly on my heel and half jogged down the hall to the front doors.

I didn't see anything, I told myself.

I did _not_ see a thing.

**[O]**

_**EARLIER THAT DAY**_

"So, what, another night of kicking through leaves in the woods?" Kate Argent snipped, slugging by her elder brother's side.

"I prefer to think of it as another night trying to keep innocent people from being killed. A list which now includes my daughter," Chris Argent retorted, scanning a schematics sheet that outlined the entirety of Beacon Hills.

"How do we know it won't try going after her again?" A fellow hunter inquired.

"It won't go after Allison," Kate said uninterestedly, tinkering with the sniper rifle in her small hands.

"It won't have any target at all, not on a full moon," Chris reassured his men.

"How come?" Another hunter asked.

"An Alpha is like any other werewolf on a full moon. It struggles under its sway, which means tonight is our best chance to catch it, when it's unfocused," Mr. Argent stated. He stuck a knife point in a spot on the map.

"Yeah, but what if it has a reason to stay focused?" Kate wondered, eyes narrowing as she thought it over. "How about that Aretino girl? You said you saw her in a car with Derek some time ago."

Chris straightened his shoulders, tilting his head as he addressed his sibling. "She's only a girl, Kate. I doubt she knows anymore than Allison."

"Do you really want to take that chance? She might know who the second beta is," Kate said, leaning the long weapon across her toned shoulders. "I say we pay her a visit."

"No," Chris said plainly. "I'll talk to her myself. I don't want you...troubling her."

Kate smiled, sweet and wholesome and Chris knew she would disregard everything he told her. She had done so before many times. "Have it your way," she chimed, her tone light and airy but her eyes read the opposite. "If I were you, I would've taken care of her a long time ago."

Her brother gave her a long look. "Oh, do you know something we don't?"

"I just don't like surprises. But you're the expert, so you tell me," Kate replied.

"What about Derek?" A colleague asked.

"He's smarter than that. He won't be out tonight," said Kate, sparing the younger man a glance. She ran a hand smoothly down her gun. "There's cops everywhere."

"And if for some reason he is-" Chris began to say, but another voice overlapped his, soft but yet much stronger than Chris' baritone one. His head jerked up to the door.

Victoria Argent stood in the frame, thin and lithe, but all kinds of lethal. "If he is you find him, you kill him, you cut him in half," she paused for a second and smiled. "Anybody want a cookie?"

**[O]**

When I got home, my folks surprised me with a freshly awaiting dinner, which I thought was odd because we never ate before seven o'clock so this was definitely something new for us. But I enjoyed it anyways, as I never said no to a mother's well made dish, especially if it was one of my favorites. The idea of that was blasphemous to me.

It only took me twenty minutes to clean out half my plate. The little cookie Allison gave me at lunch that day managed to fill me up temporarily, but granted, that was hours ago.

Right as I swirled the final remains of the spaghetti around my fork, I nearly jumped up with a semi shriek by the sudden buzzing in my back pocket. It was my phone vibrating, indicating that somebody had sent me a text message. My parents looked at me like I was mentally incompetent. I set my utensil down and fished the mobile device out of my jeans. The screen flashed on and off brightly, a notification popped in the right hand corner. I clicked it.

It was from Derek.

**'I'm at your window'**

I sprang up from my chair, almost knocking the seat back and breaking the china dish. I tossed the napkin from my lap on top of my plate and stumbled out the dining room.**  
**

"Is something wrong, hon?" My mom asked, bringing a wine glass to her lips calmly.

"Huh? Oh no, I'm fine. I just remembered that I have a long paper I have to turn in tomorrow so I'm going to bed early. Night!" I zipped up the stairs, not bothering to wait for there responses because I was so caught up in letting Derek in before he could fall off my window seal. From what I could tell, he was very prone to injuries.

I left the lamp on near my bed so I wasted zero time in rushing toward my curtains. His bulky silhouette was visible through the glass. I flicked up the latches and pushed it up. Cold air blew across my face.

"Sorry for the wait," I whispered to him. "I was having dinner downstairs." Derek came in wordlessly and ambled toward my bed.

"So what's the update?" I asked, plopping down on my computer chair.

"What update?" Derek demanded, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Are you still a wanted man?"

"No, of course not," Derek mocked. "In fact, they gave me a medal for my good behavior."

I showered him with soft applause, playing his little game. "Lord knows you deserved it," I said cheerfully. He gave the biggest glare anyone could be graced with and I laughed, looking down at my lap.

"Alright, in all seriousness, what's really going on?" I said.

"Nothing you don't already know," Derek said, pacing in small circles around my room, hands in coat pockets.

"You mean nothing has happened yet?"

"No."

"Did the police ever say who gave up your name?" I asked.

"Who do you think?" Derek snapped, coming to an abrupt halt. His eyes burned, igniting like a blazing inferno. I blinked slowly, and searched my brain like a computer for an answer. But I came up with nothing. Who was he talking about?

I gave a tiny shrug of the shoulders.

"The ones you call your friends," Derek said heatedly.

I stiffened. "No... you don't mean Scott and Stiles, do you?"

"Is there anybody else?"

"But...they were helping you. Why would they do that?"

Derek sighed and ran a hand over his face. He looked so..._drained_. "I don't know." I stayed where I was for a second then quietly got up and walked over to him. I tugged gently on the flap of his leather jacket.

"Listen, don't worry about them. Maybe they were just scared and didn't know what else to say. The cops are going to find who really did and you'll be dropped as a fugitive. Trust me."

Derek looked down at me and there was a hint of a smirk in his eyes. "I don't trust anyone."

"Well, maybe you should start."

"Maybe you should be quiet."

"Hey now, this my house," I said playfully. He chuckled lowly and the sound made my stomach do flips. I rarely heard him laugh but the times when he did, it made my head feel like it was going to explode and the air in my lungs decreased and shriveled up.

I suppressed a giggle myself and slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle it so my folks wouldn't hear downstairs. Derek's lips twitched up into a smile for a fraction of a second and he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. His thumb caressed against my lower cheek and my chest started to feel heavy, like bricks were being stuffed into my ribcage.

I didn't know whether to lean closer or playfully swat his hand away to lighten the mood. I couldn't do anything but look up into his eyes. Those hazy green eyes.

Derek leaned down a little toward me, as if here were going to rest his forehead against mine, and my heart lurched all the way to my throat. Clogging my airways until I swore I would from lack of oxygen.

My mind screamed at myself to do something, anything, besides standing there like a mannequin. My lips quivered slightly and they parted to say something, but Derek talked over me then, pulling back with alarm.

"Wait, what time is it?" He asked me, eyes narrowing intensely.

I peered around him to see the clock on my bedside table. "Almost eleven o'clock." Derek's shoulders tensed and his eyes quickly flitted to my curtains.

"Derek? What is is?" I asked as he went closer to my window. He raised a finger for me to be quiet, then listened closely for something my ears couldn't pick up. I waited patiently behind him, twisting my hands together.

After what seemed like forever, he turned around. "It's Scott," he said breathlessly.

"Is he hurt?"

"No, but someone else might be."

"What?" I said confused.

"Tonight's the full moon. Werewolves who were just bitten have no control over their instinct when the moon is full."

"Is he out there?"

Derek turned toward the window again. "I don't know. I thought I heard something earlier but it's gone now."

I pushed his back gently. "Go," I murmured. "Find him before he does something stupid." Derek glanced at me then back out toward the glass. He stepped forward and pushed up the latches. He lifted one leg over the seal, but paused to meet my eyes. "Will you be okay?"

I nodded, and smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Now go. Go get Scott." Derek stared into my eyes with uninterrupted silence then swung over the threshold and jumped down from sight.

I watched the space he once occupied then went over to shut the window. I closed the curtains, then sat on my bed with my knees up to my chest. I laid down on my side and watched the sticky stars on my ceiling glow in the dark. I flicked off the light so I could see the whole effect.

Two of them looked like two bright blue eyes gazing down at me.

* * *

**A/N: This was a particularly hard chapter to write since the episode is sort of uneventful until the very end (kind of), but I hoped you guys liked it nonetheless!  
**

**The next one will be better since that's when Alessandra finally meets good ol' Kate (it's a crazy first encounter). Thank you for being so patient and taking the time to read this. You guys rock! :D Only four more chapters until the end of Season One. We're almost there, guys. **

******Until next time! **:)  



	9. All Cloak, No Dagger

_A gentleman is simply a patient wolf._

**- Lana Turner**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**All Cloak, No Dagger**

* * *

I went to bed around ten o'clock on Tuesday night. I had the house to myself for a majority of the evening, which I should've taken extreme advantage of but instead I paced around my house debating whether to go back down into the basement for a better look on that tablet I found a few days earlier. I never liked basements but the current state of ours certainly did nothing to help my condition.

I was very much indecisive. I slumped in my dad's recliner for an hour, staring at the blank television screen. When the grandfather clock rang nine times, I scampered upstairs to my parent's bedroom, not wanting to waste another minute. If there was any bribing material in my house, it had to be in there. I dug through every inch of their closet, drawers, even their bathroom, but I found nothing.

I sat on the big king sized bed, scrunching my feet on the carpet and nibbled on my fingernails. I was missing something, I knew it. There was a huge page of the puzzle that I wasn't getting. I hated being lied to, especially from the people who I have known all my life. I sighed and rose from the bed, walking to the door, but froze when I realized I had missed a spot. It was like a light bulb clicked on in my head.

_Under the bed._

I spun around and dropped down to my knees in front of the mattress, then lifted up the bed skirt, coughing when a swarm of dust bunnies blew into my face.

Far underneath, I could make out a boxy outline. It looked like a chest, used to store away medium to large objects. I had to lay on my stomach to reach forward and grab it. My arms were almost too short to snag it, but my fingers managed to curl around the handle so I tugged it to me. I dragged it out and brushed the dust and bacteria coating the top lid.

The container was made of pure brass, most of its shine had dulled, and our family surname was carved into the metal strip above the lock. I tried to lift the lid but it was sealed shut. I need the key, but I had no clue where it was or where it could've been. It might've been in my dad's pocket, or hidden away in another unknown compartment.

It was definitely another dead end for my book of discoveries. Another secret I'd probably never learn the truth to. I stood up and kicked the old chest back under the bed, straightened up a few trinkets that were sitting crookedly, then left the room.

I contemplated on watching a movie for awhile, or studying for a bit, but I felt so mentally drained I just wanted to fall in bed and not wake up for about a day or two.

I changed into my pajamas and snuggled against my favorite furry pillow. I left my bedroom door open, something I always did when my parents were away on a temporary trip.

I fell asleep almost right away, but stirred when my phone started ringing on top of my beside table, buzzing on the wooden surface with an irritating thump. I rolled over on my back and fiercely rubbed my eyes. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was already eleven thirty. An hour had gone by. It felt like only seconds.

I turned on the lamp and my retinas dilated painfully by the sudden glare. The cell number printed on the screen indicted that it was Stiles. I answered the call and slumped against my headboard.

"Hello?" I said through a thick yawn. My head started to spin from post-sleep haze.

"Alessandra?" I recognized Stiles' scratchy voice and he sounded pretty anxious about something.

"Yeah, what is it?" I replied, blinking swiftly to wake myself up.

"Got space in your room for a fugitive werewolf?" He asked.

That nabbed my attention and I sat up straighter. "What?"

"Derek needs a place to crash tonight."

Of course he does, I thought to myself. I rubbed my forehead and sighed. "Yeah, okay. Bring him over."

"We're already here," he said.

I threw the sheets off me and shuffled into my slippers. I hated walking barefoot, especially on cold wooden floors. "Okay, I'll meet you downstairs. Bring him to the front door."

"What about your parents?"

"They're in Carmel for one of my dad's meetings with a client. They won't be home until after midnight," I told him and struggled to put a jumper over my tank top while holding the phone with one hand. "I'll be down in a minute," I said then hung up and chucked my cell on the bed. I peered out the window briefly, seeing Derek's Camaro parked behind the bend, obscured from sight unless you had a clear view like I did.

I skipped downstairs, relieved that I didn't have to worry about making too much noise since my parents were absent. It would be sort nice to have Derek around without us having to tip toe and whisper throughout the whole night. The first time he was able to do that, he was bleeding from the forearm and half dead.

This is gonna be another long night, I thought to myself as I opened the front door to let the boys in. Derek was already standing behind it, hands buried into his jacket pocket's with a tortured look on his face. I guessed Stiles was driving him nuts again.

I automatically smiled when I met Derek's hard gaze, but the muscles around his lips tweaked up into a tiny smirk.

I gestured him inside. "Another night of playing detective?" I asked Scott and Stiles when they came in after.

"Barely," Scott muttered. He scratched the side of his neck, looking sheepish and bummed. I closed the door.

"Did you find out who the Alpha is?" I asked as we stood in the foyer.

Stiles snorted. "No, your lover boy couldn't catch him."

A growl derived deep from Derek's throat and I saw him lean forward quickly, like he was about to deck the younger teen. Stiles held his hands up and his mouth twisted into a little knot. "Sorry, sorry. He_ almost_ had him, I meant," he said.

Derek's posture relaxed but he didn't tear his glare away from Stiles. I shook my head at them, smoothing a hand over my forehead.

"So what's the plan with you two?" Scott asked, eyes flickering between us, then he paused for a second. "Do I even want to know?"

I glanced at Derek quickly, blood pumping to my cheeks, and he only pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers and exhaled. "Get out," he deadpanned to them.

"Hey, this isn't your house so I don't think you're in any position to be barking orders," Stiles protested. He let out a mumbled "Holy mother of god," when Derek snarled a little and his eyes flashed bright blue.

My hand locked around Derek's arm, propelling him back. I wasn't about to let a murder be committed in my own home. "Easy, you two," I said.

Stiles grinned. "That's right, big guy. Listen to your girlfriend."

I really had to put both my hands on Derek's arm to tug him way from actually touching Stiles that time. Scott helped and intervened, pushing his friend to the door gently. "C'mon, you guys," he sighed. "This isn't helping."

Derek turned to me, his voice ragged and graveled. "Tell them to leave if you don't want me ripping their heads off."

I looked at my two school mates reluctantly, and Scott nodded at me. "No need to tell us twice," he said and he sounded very relieved at the suggestion to go. "Let's go, Stiles."

I watched them depart, waving my goodbyes, then locked the door after them. I turned slowly to Derek, crossing my arms over my chest. I couldn't help but glare at his behavior. Why was he acting so hostile?

"What's with you?" I asked him.

He just looked at the floor. "Nothing," he responded monotonously. "I just don't want them talking about us."

"Why?"

"Because it's none of their business."

"But it's not like we're dating or anything," I pointed out. Derek went very tense in the shoulders and his gaze angled down, shrouding his expression from me.

I sighed and looked around at the empty, dim living room. The portrait of Italy hanging above the fireplace mantle gave the house a real creepy feeling at night. "So do you want to hang around here or go up to my room?" I suggested wearily. All I wanted to do was go back to bed.

"Your room is fine," he said. Of course he would pick that, I thought to myself.

I slouched up the stairs, hearing his pounding footsteps shadow mine. I always thought that the first moment I'd have a boy in my room, I'd be deathly nervous, but I was actually feeling okay. Calm, even. Maybe it was because we had skipped all that pervasive awkwardness the second he stumbled through my window bleeding from the abdomen.

When I walked into my room, I discarded my sweater, and kicked off my slippers then flopped back into bed. I laid face down on my pillow for awhile, hearing Derek's shoes stomp over to my window and stop right there. He didn't say anything for a long time, so I rolled over to my back so my face could breath. I turned my head to look at him, and he stood quietly with his hands secured in his pockets. The moon light only showed his features, the rest was in shadow.

"Are you worried?" I asked him out of the blue.

He answered without looking at me. "About what?"

"About finding the Alpha."

A couple beats passed. "People are dying," he said gravely. "What does that tell you?"

I smiled, and suppressed a chuckle.. "I knew you were a softie."

"Shut up," he grumbled and I laughed. He remained silent for a few minutes so I shifted to watch him guard the window like some kind of dark sentinel. Isn't he tired? I thought to myself.

"Come sit down," I murmured, voice heavy with sleepiness. "I'm sure being a wanted man is exhausting." I heard him exhale, and I was fairly sure an eye roll followed after that, but it was dark and I couldn't see clearly that much.

But the bed dipped after a moment, and I could feel his tremendous body heat manifest right next to me. He was like my own personal air conditioner.

I laid awake for awhile in the crook of his arm. The smooth material of his leather jacket was soft against my cheek and smelled like smoke and crisp leaves. It was a nice contrast to how scruffy his stubbly jaw felt.**  
**

"Derek?" I mumbled again. My words were starting to slur.

"Huh?"

"Do...do you ever think about what life would've been like if you weren't a werewolf? If you were normal?"

I waited for his answer and it took so long, I thought it would never come at all. In all honesty, I wasn't completely sure what evoked me to ask that. I guess that's what staying up in the late hours of night did to me.

"All the time," he eventually replied, voice immaculate and deep. He sounded strangely...sad. And it made me frown. I didn't want him to feel bad. I didn't want him to feel like everything was happening was his fault, because it wasn't. Not at all.

"Do you regret coming back to Beacon Hills?" I inquired. I hoped he wasn't getting annoyed by my curious questions.

The amount of time he took to respond to that was shorter, and I felt his hand gently smooth down my hair. "No."

I smiled and closed my eyes, falling asleep without troubled thoughts, which was a first in months, and I slept soundly instead of constantly waking up every two hours thinking some kind of "monster" was about to attack me. Either that, or I'd see multiple red eyes at every corner of my room.

I woke up only once during the night when I felt the blankets being tucked around me. I immediately thought of Derek, remembering that he was here for the night, and I frantically skimmed my room for any sight of him through the pitch darkness.

I muttered his name thickly. "Derek? Where-"

"I'm right here," I heard him answer lowly from beside me. He was on my bed with me. I mildly surprised that my thought managed to stay G rated.

"Oh," I mumbled then laid my head back down slowly on the fluffy pillow. "What happened?" I asked tiredly. "We were talking then..." I trailed off, yawning hugely, then subconsciously pulled the blanket tighter around me.

"You fell asleep," Derek said simply. He didn't sound sleepy at all. I guess this was where his nocturnal, wolf side kicked in.

I rolled over so I was facing the source of his voice next to me. His silhouette was barely visible. "Are my parents home?" I whispered.

"They came in twenty minutes ago."

I yawned again, and I could feel the side of the mattress shift where Derek laid. "Go to sleep," he said quietly.

"I will if you will," I told him.

He groaned at my stubbornness. "Alessandra-"

I didn't let him finish. "My slumber party, my rules," I reminded him. Silence swallowed us both for a moment, then I heard him sink lower into bed and his arm slung loosely around my shoulders, resting lightly at the middle of my back. My leg was close enough to brush against his and I could hear his deep, deliberate intakes of breath. Somehow I just couldn't sleep unless I knew Derek was getting the rest he deserved.

I laid still, nestled next to him for awhile, and listened as his heartbeat shifted down to a more stable, even beat. I could tell that he was relaxed, and falling into slumber himself and I tilted my head up to look at his face. His eyes were closed, eyelashes dark and stationary against his cheeks, and something about his expression appeared soft and vulnerable. Child-like, almost. His lips were slightly parted but he breathed quietly without a sound.

I smiled and took a deep breath, allowing my body to unwind and adjust to the bulky feel of his shape, and I found myself falling back asleep quickly. At that moment, I was grateful he was there. I always felt better the next day because of him.

He just made everything better.

**[O]**

The morning shine was blinding when I awoke around six thirty. I felt around the space next to me, but the mattress was empty and lost of any body heat. I rolled around to my back, rubbing my eyes, and snapped them open. My room was drafty and everything was so eerily quiet, I could hear the hum of the coffee pot from downstairs. My parents were already up, but where was...?

Then it hit me, and suddenly I became aware of a presence in the room and eyes watching me.

I leaned up on my forearms, meeting Derek's pensive gaze on my computer chair.

"You're still here?" I asked groggily.

"Good morning to you too," he said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and stretched my arms over my head.

"I guess I better get ready for school now," I hinted and Derek nodded, drumming his finger tips on top of the arm rest.

I stared at him, expecting him to move. "Are you going to be here all day?"

"Do you want me to?" He said.

"Do you always answer a question with a question?"

Derek smirked. "Not all the time."

I laughed at him and shook my head. "Maybe you should go to Stiles' house. Just in case."

Derek stared at me for an unwaveringly long time, not even blinking. "You're kidding."

I couldn't help but laugh at his tone. Were things that tense between those two? Truthfully, I think they did secretly see each other as friends but harbored too much man pride to admit it. "Look, I know you hate him, but his house might be the safest place for you to be right now."

"His father is the Sheriff," Derek pointing out, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed. "I know, but you'll have no chance of blowing your cover if you keep a low profile," I said and opened my closet to get out my thick winter jacket. Today looked especially muggy. "So please try not to kill Stiles, okay?" I turned around to usher him out of my room so I could get changed for school modestly but he was already walking up to me.

He tucked back my hair, and lightly kissed my forehead.

I felt so faint, and my finger nails dug into my palms to keep myself balanced. It was a real kick how he could make me lose my equilibrium at the drop of a hat.

"I'll call you later," he said and moved swiftly to the window. I let out a giggle and quickly clapped a hand over my lips to silence it. I couldn't help it. That sounded like something a newly met boy would say after a one night stand, but given he did technically spend the night there, it was sorta fitting.

Derek paused at the window, hearing my chuckle, and looked over his shoulder. "What's so funny?" He asked gruffly.

"Oh, nothing," I said, but I was still smiling. "Out you go," I said and he rolled his eyes, then dropped from my window out of sight. I shook my head then turned to gather my stuff for a shower.

Downstairs I could hear my parents argue about who's turn it was to make a trip to the grocery store.

**[O]**

Early in the beginning of school hours, I had a shared class with Allison and luckily for me, Lydia too. Allison and I were largely separated in between rows but we managed to pass some notes to each other before the Teacher started her lesson. Scott came in by himself when I was doodling on the cover of my notebook. I caught his mop of tousled brown hair from the corner of my eye. He ambled along Allison's aisle, drifting around the free chair perched next to her. Lydia ended up staking her claim to the seat before Scott had a chance. That only left him with the seat behind her.

I felt bad for him because of that. Being close to her meant putting up with her strong, overpowering perfume. I always got migraines from it.

I opened my book when the Teacher started speaking about Yago. Did I forget my notes again? I thought to myself while flipping through my folders. When I leaned down to check my book bag, I noticed Allison stand up abruptly. She glanced over her shoulder at Scott, expression on the verge of breaking down. She rushed out of the room and Scott followed after her. I could hear their footsteps echo into the hall then screech to a halt.

After a few minutes, Scott lumbered back into the classroom, looking sullen and lost. I tentatively raised my hand.

"Yes, Miss Aretino?" The teacher said.

"Can I go check on her?" I asked.

"Go ahead, but don't be long."

I stood up right away, leaving my books and stuff behind, and hurried down the hall to find Allison. I checked outside and in the girls locker room but she wasn't there. I called on her phone, hearing its echo source from the bathroom so I followed the noise.

When I came in, she was at the sinks, wiping away her tears with the back of her hands. I walked up to her silently and instantly, she embraced me in a loose hug, sniffling and murmuring "It hurts so much."

I used the material of my long sleeve henley to mop up the mascara mess leaking under her eyelids. It stained the white cotton of the shirt ink black.

"You'll rust yourself," I joked with her and she giggled at the movie reference.

She fixed her hair in the mirror and splashed a little cold water on her face. We returned back to class when she was stable and ready. Everyone was quiet and gawking as we walked back in but nobody said a thing.

Allison never looked at Scott once.

I felt like she threw up this barrier with him, and it was so strange to see. Those two were like little puzzle pieces. You weren't exactly sure why they clicked but they did, nonetheless, and that's what made then so special and cute to see together.

But things were different now.

Very different.

After class ended, Allison and I were forced to part ways due to completely different schedules from there on, but we made plans to eat together at lunch. I suspected she would be towing her red headed pal along too. Ever since the other day, I couldn't look at her without remembering the mental image of her exploring Scott's mouth with her tongue.

On my way to Biology, I got a call from Derek. I dived into the Girls' Bathroom, checking to see if I had the space to myself as usual before answering the call.

"Derek?" I answered on the fourth ring.

"I can't believe you made me do this," he grumbled to me. He must've went to Stiles' house like I had previously suggested.

"You're there already?"

"Yeah," was his quick, sharp reply.

"Go easy on him," I warned him. "You need him, whether you want to admit it or not."

A couple beats passed and Derek was quiet on the other end, but he spoke after a while. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Seriously, how many times are you gonna ask that?"

"Until I know you're safe."

"I am," I argued.

"Not yet. Not until I find the Alpha."

I paused. "And when you do?"

"I'm gonna kill him."

I cringed a little at that. No matter how much you like someone, those are four words you never want to hear out of their mouths.

"Is there any change I can get you to rethink that decision?" I asked tentatively.

"No."

"Thought so," I mumbled, and rubbed my forehead. "I have to get going," I reluctantly announced, pulling the phone away briefly to look at the mini clock. It was almost time for my next class. "But be careful, okay? And don't kill Stiles!"

I heard him snort on the other end before hanging up.

I sighed and exited the bathroom, rushing down the hall so I wouldn't be stuck with a lazy Biology partner. That was my punishment the time I had arrived late and I ended up doing all the work on the experiments.

I guess being punctual _is_ important.

**[O]**

Jackson's sudden change in mannerisms were really starting to creep me out. He sat with Allison, Lydia, and I during lunch again and his chipper, gentlemanly smile was back in place. He made some small talk with me, but mostly flirted with Allison, which I was surprised Lydia didn't grill him for.

At one point, he even stared behind us at someone that I wasn't sure who. The eerie, manipulative little smirk plastered on his lips were extremely disarming.

But after awhile, he wandered off and I lost him in the crowd. Allison and Lydia laughed across from me, gossiping about the secret ingredient the cafeteria cook put in the mystery meatloaf that day. I picked at my own lunch with my fork, suddenly losing my appetite for no apparent reason.

I stiffened when a sharp snap pierced the air and everyone turned their attention to where Scott and Stiles were sitting. It appeared that Scott broke his lunch tray in half. He looked absolutely furious.

I scanned the room and my gaze caught Jackson's figure wedged between a junction of the wall. The smile on his face was so malicious. It was almost as if...

I looked back at Scott and my eyes widened at the realization.

He knew.

_Jackson knew._

I stared at my untouched tray of food for the remaining duration of lunch. I kept drumming my nails on top of the table, biting the tips off the other one as I thought on the possibility of what might have tipped him off. Did he black mail it out of Scott? Bribe him?

How did he figure it out?

This is bad, I thought to myself. This is really, really bad.

Even a little bit of valuable information is dangerous for a guy like Jackson. If only he remained a vain, uninterested jock for the rest of his High School life...

But it looked like that wasn't the case at all. Throughout the day, he and Allison noticeably got closer. They invited me to go swimming with them but I shamelessly declined. I told them I didn't know how to swim, which wasn't a lie. I would never set foot in a pool eight feet deep without some kind of water wingies. But I sat on the bleachers and watched them race and also, to keep an eye on Allison's bag for her.

My mind starting wandering off about Derek and I wondered what exactly he was doing in Stiles' house. Hopefully not threatening his dad or anything.

Unbeknownst to myself, I was smiling hugely just by the thought of him. But my daydreams were ripped away from me when someone made their presence known beside me.

It was Scott.

I smiled at him. "Oh, hey," I greeted.

"Hey," said back with a smirk. His gaze flitted down to the pool briefly, sizing up the competition down below. He looked a little nervous.

"What brings you here?" I asked.

"Oh, uh, you know...I was just-" He started rambling, then scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Those doe-like eyes of his were so expressive, so I knew the angle he was getting at.

"Creeping on Allison?" I guessed.

Scott chuckled. "Actually, I came to borrow something," he clarified and checked around us before diving into Allison's bag.

"Hey, wait a minute," I whispered to him so the girls behind us wouldn't hear. "I believe that's called _stealing_."

"Not if you bring it back," he retorted. I only sighed and watched as he sifted through the front pockets.

His head perked up after a moment. "I did?" He blurted out toward Jackson's and Allison's figures. I guessed he overheard their conversation with his super advanced werewolf ears.

"Did what?" I said.

Scott turned to me. "Oh, uh, nothing." He dug around Allison's bag some more then sighed and pulled away. "It's not here," he muttered with disappointment.

"What's not there?"

"Her necklace," he answered.

"You mean the one with the wolf on it?" I asked him.

Scott's eyes lit up. "So you've seen it?"

"Yeah, but I don't think she wore it to school today. Maybe it's somewhere in her house," I told him.

"Okay," Scott said softly, pondering what I just told him. "Thanks." Given the look on his face, I assumed he was going to plan a sneaky break in later.

I smiled. "No problem. Good luck with your kleptomania." Scott chuckled and we exchanged our casual goodbyes, before he stood and left the auditorium.

I turned back to the pool, watching as Jackson wrapped a big towel around Allison's soaked shoulders. I really hoped she knew what she was getting herself into...

Because I didn't.

**[O]**

At home, I thought my folks dropped the whole secretive, overly suspicious parenting act. They were acting relatively normal for awhile.

_Awhile._

But then it started up again. It was like clockwork. When I went into my dad's study to borrow his stapler like I sometimes did, I noticed an open letter laying on top of his monthly planner. The seal had already been broken off and the paper was halfway folded up. I wondered if he had purposely left it there for me to find or forgot to hide it away.

I glanced around to make sure I had the room to myself then carefully opened up the mysterious letter. It was a written note from someone but I wasn't sure who. There was only a strange symbol stamped at the very bottom of the page. I could've sworn I saw it before.

I read the contents of the letter slowly. It was short and to the point.

**_Vincent,_**

**_I know you are aware of what's been happening around Beacon Hills. I've had Gaius contact you but I see you've refused to see our side of things. Don't you understand what will happen if we let this go on? What could happen to your family? We can't ignore this, not anymore. We have to take control. It's what we're meant to do. The Order has to come together again.  
_**

**_It's time._**

**_Say hello to Maria for me._**

**_- Sincerely, Martinus._**

Martinus? I thought. Who was he? I had a pretty big family but I knew for a fact there was no Uncle or Cousin named Martinus. If so, my dad would've mentioned him by now. What was going on here?

I rummaged through the rest of the papers in hopes to find some sort of response my dad wrote, but I found nothing. Just a bunch of folders from his law firm.

I quickly refolded the letter when I heard shuffling going around in the kitchen and living room, then skyrocketed out of there before I could get caught and took shelter in my bedroom. I forgot all about that stapler.

I sat on my bed silently, rolling a mechanical pencil in my hand. My books laid stagnant as I raked my mind for some kind of explanation for this Martinus guy. Maybe one of my dad's old business partners back in San Diego? Could be likely. But what was with this "Order" thing?

I had to find out one way or another.

I jumped when my phone buzzed on my computer table, but I scampered off my bed and hurried to check it, hoping it would be Derek. It was actually Allison, sending a text.

**'Be my date for tonight's lacrosse game? :)'**

I frowned and typed back a response. I really wanted to go, but given my folks recent behavior, I didn't think they'd let me.

**'I don't think I can make it out tonight'**

I clicked the send button and after about ten minutes, received her response. That was speedy.

**'Please? I need some moral support here :('**

Oh, no. She put the sad smiley, I thought. That was my weakness. I didn't know if I could refuse her a second time. I chewed on my thumbnail as I contemplated the chances of my mom or dad saying yes to a game night. If they ended up being divided on the decision, it probably would just lead to long hours of headaches and bickering maternal guardians.

But I _really_ wanted to go. So I typed back an undecided answer.

**'I'll see what I can do'**

I sighed and set down my phone, then went downstairs to the living room. My dad was flicking through an old book on his recliner. The Tv was set on some old movie channel.

Here goes nothing...

"Hey, dad?" I asked, standing beside the right arm rest.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He didn't tear his eyes away from the pages.

"Can I go to the lacrosse game tonight with Allison?"

"Of course, of course," he said coolly.

I beamed at him but he wasn't paying attention. "Thanks, Dad! She's going to pick me up with her dad, so you won't have to drive me." I turned to leave then, but my father's head snapped in my direction and he closed his book swiftly. The change in his eyes were impeccable.

"Her father?" He repeated. He sounded angry.

I nodded. "Yeah. Is...is that okay?" I thought he wouldn't care. Apparently that wasn't the case when Mr. Argent was involved.

He didn't say anything for a long moment, and I could tell that he was going over it in his head, which confused since he was fine with it the first time I went to a game. Did his distaste for the Argents run that deep?

"I better take you myself," he concluded after a few minutes and stood up. "I'll get my coat."

"You really don't have to," I told him, attempting to sway him. Maybe then he'd explain the root of his tiff with Mr. Argent. "I mean Allison's dad can-"

"I don't want to hear anymore about the Argents," he snapped, shrugging on his coat. "You're my daughter. I'm taking you." He paused to pick up his car keys from the kitchen counter then kissed my mom goodbye.

He met me by the front door. "Let's go."

I sighed and grabbed my pea coat from the rack and buttoned it up. I said a brief "See you later" to my mom and soon, I was on the road, heading for the school.

The ride was pretty quick, as there was very little traffic in streets, allowing my dad to go over the speed limit a little without getting busted for it. On the way there, I got a voice mail from Stiles, telling me that he was visiting the local hospital with Derek to speak with Scott's mom. About what, I didn't know but he said I should keep my phone on, by Derek's request. I was a little bummed I couldn't talk to either of them, as I wasn't exactly in a private place for such conversations, but I texted him back asking them to be careful. Which I was almost positive would go overlooked. It _was_ Stiles, after all.

I slid my phone into my front pocket and turned up the heater a little. We were just pulling out of the free way, and turning onto the school's corner. I saw the tall building when we were only a few blocks away. The bright field lights made it easy to spot from a short distance.

We parked in a free stop and my dad cut the engine, he opened his door, about to step out but his cell rang them from his coat pocket. He answered it right away. I got out but waited with the passenger door open, tapping my foot a little impatiently, but he droned on for hours.

"Uh, dad?" I mumbled when he wouldn't stop talking and motioned to the lacrosse field. He only glanced at me and waved for me to go one without him. I shrugged and closed the door, assuming he would be there later when he was finished with his little chat.

I walked over to the bleachers, seeing Allison waiting beside the player's bench for me. She smiled when she saw and waved, bouncing toward me. "You made it!" She exclaimed with a big grin and linked her arm with mine.

"There's someone I want you to meet," Allison said excitedly as we walked toward the bleachers. Her dad and Aunt were already camped on the top row, studying the players warming up on the field. Mr. Argent noticed me first when we climbed up the benches, and nodded once at me. A civil acknowledgement, but a greeting nonetheless.

As I got closer, I realized just how young her Aunt really looked. She was really pretty and athletically built. I knew none of my relatives had wrinkle free skin and shiny hair like that. Well, there was my Aunt Stella, but she had special surgery performed.

"Kate, this is my friend Alessandra," Allison introduced me with a big smile. I could tell by the way she looked at her elder that they were very close, like sisters. Except with different hair colors.

Kate stood up and smiled, looking at me with that Argent gaze I hated so much. It made you feel like you had just done something illegal and were gonna get busted for it.

"So you're the one my darling niece wouldn't stop talking about," she said, crossing her arms over her jacket. Her eyes were very cat-like. Cunning and willing to sink her claws into you. Were all of Allison's kin like this or was it just her Aunt and father?

"Kate," Allison mumbled, giving her a 'I-cannot-believe-you-said-that' look. I raised my eyebrows at her. She talks about me? I thought to myself.

"Well, you did," her Aunt said. "There's nothing wrong with having a girl-crush. I had a few and some back in my early days," she winked at me humorously and I smiled a little. Why wasn't she treating me like Allison's dad did? I guessed she didn't know about my lineage yet. Thank God for that. I didn't know if I could handle two Angry Argents.

We took out seats as the players started to hurdle together. Allison sat in between Kate and I so she could talk to the both of us with ease. I leaned over to her when the lights brightened.

"You told your Aunt about me?" I asked quietly, out of Kate's earshot.

Allison laughed, and she gently slapped my knee. "Of course I did, silly. I always tell her about my best friends," she said humbly.

I chuckled. "Oh stop, you're gonna make me cry." Allison smiled and we turned our gazes back to the field, watching as the lacrosse team members rallied in a small group. She handed me her cup of steaming hot coffee and I took a careful sip, relishing in the way it warmed my throat as it trickled down.

Coach Finstock was giving yet another one of his motivational speeches before game time. I noticed Scott out of the bunch, looking around like he was a lost, confused puppy. He glanced somewhere along our direction so I waved at him, hoping that he would see. He returned the gesture with a weak smirk.

"That one. That's Jackson," I heard Allison say to her Aunt.

"Holy hotness," Kate remarked. "Oh, if I was in high school again. Maybe just a substitute teacher." She subtly started checking Jackson out. Gross, I thought. He was probably old enough to be her son.

"You are sick," Allison said. I don't think sick even began to describe that woman.

"You should be all over that," she told her niece in a sing-song tone. Was I really hearing this? What was wrong with this broad?

Right when the whistle blew, so deafeningly loud that it forced me to fly my hands up to shield my ears, my phone vibrated in my front pocket. I ignored it, too distracted over the abrupt start of the match to even answer the call or text message. I leaned up a little to see if my dad was on his way over to us, but I couldn't see him anywhere in the parking lot. He was still on the phone, for all I knew.

So watched the game with high interest, cheering every now and then when Scott managed to commandeer the ball. But when he did, he always passed it to Danny, which perplexed me. He never did that during a heated game.

Once in a while, I'd scan the parking lot for a glimpse of my dad, which would result in seeing nothing, or just glance around at the people around me. A few times, I caught Kate staring at me very seriously, though when our eyes met, she smiled. Soft and welcoming. I'd smile back, then quickly look away. I didn't particularly like the gaze she was giving me beforehand. She was staring like she was trying to figure something out. It was weird and I didn't like the feeling it gave me.

Given by the way Allison's father and Aunt acted, I could only imagine what her mother was like...

When our school's team scored the winning shot, everyone erupted in a flurry of cheers. I had to cover my ears again by how high pitched it was. I hesitated to bring my arms down when the audience descended the bleachers to congratulate the players, but another vibration in my jeans made me reach into my front pocket.

It was a text message. I figured it was either from Derek or my dad, whom I still had no clue where he was. I tapped the screen and the light glowed on, straining my retinas briefly. I clicked the notification, expecting a short and sweet message, and it was but not exactly a casual one.

It was from Stiles.

'**Need you here NOW'**

I stared in confusion at the message then typed back my answer.

**'Why? What's wrong?'**

I clicked send and waited impatiently for his response, but minutes ticked by and my inbox remained stagnant. What was going with him at that hospital? I knew something was wrong. I could feel it deep in my gut. What was going on in that Hospital?

Without another thought, I stood up and stepped down from the bleachers, hurrying back to my dad's car. I assumed he was still in the driver's seat, talking on his cell.

I walked up to the passenger door and tapped on the glass. "Dad?" I said, peering down to see through the window but the car was empty, and the keys were missing from the ignition. Where did he go? I glanced around the parking lot, calling out for him, but he didn't come and I didn't see any trace of him. All the more reason to panic.

I tried opening the passenger door but it was locked securely. I needed the keys, but they were more than likely on my dad's person. "Damn it," I muttered.

"Aw, having trouble some, sweetie?" A feminine voice remarked from behind me. I would have turned around, if the person would've have done it herself, roughly I might add, and slammed me against the hood of the car. So hard that a spasm of pain shot through my back and I yelped by the impact.

My head thudded against the top of the car my eyes drifted up slowly to meet my perpetrator's, rigid and aware of the slender hands holding me by the collar of my jacket.

I stared into the dark blue orbs of Kate Argent. I should've known...

"Before you start screaming bloody murder, let me say something first. I just want to talk civilly like two grown women. What do you say?" I would've believed her, if her tone wasn't dripping with sarcasm and false claims. And also, if she hadn't trapped me against the car.

I gazed at her without a single word.

"Speechless?" She said a little too cheerily for my liking. "I bet you were expecting some nice, innocent soccer Aunt, weren't you? It works well when I'm around my favorite niece, but as you can see," she dropped her voice to a velvety soft register. "Allison isn't here, isn't she?"

I shook my head, and she smirked. "That's right. So how about we start by telling me everything you know."

I made a puzzled face. "Call me ignorant, but I really don't know what you're talking about."

Kate chuckled softly. "Oh, I think you do," she said, faking an amiable stature. She tilted her head toward my ear and I became very uncomfortable. Her voice was just a low murmur. "I know you're Allison's friend so I'll tell you what; I'm going to make this nice and easy for you. What do you know about Derek Hale?"

My voice broke. "W-who?" I said and I swore my heart stopping beating for a second. Why did I always lose my cool around the Argents?

Kate's eyes slid into small crescents and they resembled a cat's while preying on a small mouse. "Oh, honey. Don't make me hurt you because I really don't want to scar that sweet little face of yours." She smiled at me, but it was completely different from the ones she gave me earlier. There was poison in it.

"I really don't like repeating myself but for your cute face, I'll make an exception," she paused and leaned in super close to me. "Now one more time. What. Do. You. Know. About. Derek. _Hale_," she said very clearly. Her hands on my jacket tightened and she raised me up at least a foot off the ground. I swung my legs back and forth but they just smacked against the tires.

I looked at the lacrosse field, seeing that many of the audience and players were still celebrating. below the lights. Some were even migrating toward the school. I was hoping that they would already head to the parking lot so this woman would have no choice but to surrender me or face charges of assault. Where was my dad when I needed him? He _was_ a lawyer after all. This was right up his alley.

"Not much," I lied, and I was proud that I didn't let my voice crack that time.

Kate laughed again but I could tell her patience was wearing thin. I was getting to her. "Really? Cause' I'd think about it long and hard," she paused for a moment, cocking her head to the side a little. She studied me very briefly. "I know a lot about you, probably more than you know about yourself."

"Then what's my favorite color?" I asked to test her knowledge.

Kate slung an arm back, as if to wind it up and hit me in the face with it, but people's crazy cheers echoed into the parking lot and she dropped me to my feet. I landed with a hard thud, almost loosing balance all together.

I straightened up right way, adjusting my jacket and looking at her square in the eye as she feigned normalcy. We might've as well been talking about makeup or the latest Leonardo DiCaprio movie. I saw Allison and her father emerge from the school and they walked to their car. Mr. Argent waved Kate over and I noticed his narrow at the sight of his together, like he didn't want her around me.

Kate turned back to me, and inserted her hands into her jean pockets, jutting a hip out slightly. The posture of simplicity.

She faked a sigh, her nice Aunt facade was back in place. "Time's up, sweetheart. But don't worry, you'll be hearing from me," she said, batting her eyelashes and smiling mildly before strutting back to her family.

I stood completely still as a marble carving, my back throbbing and sore by her partial body slam and my temple felt faint from the strong, icky scent of her perfume. I leveled myself against the car, putting on hand on the side mirror. I rubbed my forehead with the other, closing my eyes tightly.

"Ready to go, hon?" My dad's voice piped up a few feet away. My snapped up, seeing him stride casually to me, tucking the phone that was in his hand into his coat pocket. He smiled at me but it immediately disappeared when he noticed how shaken up I was.

"What happened?" He demanded. A deep crease sunk between his eyebrows.

"Nothing," I said carelessly, and turned my back on him. I just wanted to go home. "Just had a nice chat with one of the Argents. Can we go now?"

He didn't say anything for a long time, so I checked over my shoulder to make sure he was still there and he was, but he was glaring at the Argents, more specifically Chris Argent, as they were getting into their vehicle. If my dad's dislike for him didn't reach hate, it sure did now.

After a moment, he unlocked the car doors, allowing me to get in.

I flicked up the dial on the heater when my dad started the car. We waited until the rest of the traffic diluted until pulling out ourselves. I looked out the window vacantly, the street lights flickering on and off every time a car passed by.

"Dad? I said when we turned onto our neighborhood street. "If you knew something that I didn't, you would tell me wouldn't you?" I asked without looking at him. I could see his reflection through the mirror. I couldn't understand his expression.

He took a painfully long time answering me. "Of course I would."

I blinked once and leaned my head against the cushion. I thought it would make me feel better.

But it didn't.

* * *

**A/N: I think this one of my favorite chapters that I've written so far. :D I'm really excited to post the next chapter since there will be a special appearance by someone we've haven't seen yet (Hint: Someone from Season Two). Also, Alessandra is gonna meet Peter for the first time pretty soon.  
**

**Thank you all for the feedback! You guys are amazing! :)  
**

***Please excuse any typos!***


End file.
